


The Peculiar Beauty of Lonely Daffodils

by baeconandeggs, rainsblankpage



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 02:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 46,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainsblankpage/pseuds/rainsblankpage
Summary: If Paris was the diamond of Europe, the Byun sons were the diamonds of Paris. They were six, six roses made of gold and almond, but there was one who stood out amongst the others: his name was Baekhyun, The Sad Prince. Many artists tried to portray his heavenly traits, but he always refused them. Until one day. Until Park Chanyeol came.





	The Peculiar Beauty of Lonely Daffodils

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt #:** BAE141  
>  **Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.** The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> **Author's Note:** I can’t believe I’m actually here! wow! First of all, I’d like to thank my dear prompter who gave me the possibility to write a story I’m really attached to. I hope I will satisfy your expectations! A big thank you to my dear “official” beta who helped me so much with this story, supporting me and making me believe in myself! I’m thankful! Thank you also to my dear friend, my “unofficial beta” who helped me a lot as well, and thank you also to all my other friends who supported me during these months. Finally, thank you to our dear mods who organised such a beautiful fest!
> 
> Before you’ll start reading please consider that **the historical facts narrated in this story are partially re-adapted to fit the storyline**.
> 
> I hope you’ll like my story! Thank you everyone!
> 
> PS: I’m sorry if there are some mistakes or distractions, but english isn’t my first language TT.

##  _**The Peculiar Beauty of Lonely Daffodils** _

  


###  **ACT I _: The Prince of Nothing_**

 

_“Agreed on the Two and twentieth day of December, in the first year of the Reign of his Excellent Majesty Emperor Napoleon III (1852), nominated on behalf of the Empire of France, the A C T entitled The Restriction Act of Arts is now approved by His Majesty command. Every form of Art caught transgressing the Laws is now prohibited and condemnable to death penalty of its creator.”_

  
**_Paris, 1864_**

 

The Byun family was well known amongst the glittering streets of Paris. People looked at them like shining diamonds, rarities coming from an unknown world, divinities but objects at the same time, contended for the beauty they were born with. They came from the singular emigration of Koreans toward France during the 10th century, after Silla’s destruction and division into the Three Kingdoms of Korea. Due to the sudden political changes, a group of emigrants decided to reach the French coast. With the arrival of the Victorian Era and the research of the perfect beauty, Asian aristocracy became a myth of uniqueness and physical perfection due to the clarity of their skin and the delicacy of their traits. People looked at them from afar, wondering how would it be to have a taste of that mystical and foreign beauty.

Paris was the diamond of Europe and The Byun sons were the diamonds of Paris.

They were six. Six roses made of gold and almond. There was Minseok, the first-born child of Byun Seungcheol and Sunhee, one of the highest ranked generals of the French army, the emerald of the military forces. A year later, Junmyeon came: the aquamarine gem who shone for his medical studies at only 26 years old. Kyungsoo was the only son who hadn't the Byun’s blood flowing in his veins. He was born from one of the dearest maids of the family, who served them until her last breath, only asking for a second possibility for her child. He was raised, with the family’s golden blood crashing in his heart instead, growing with the same beauty of his brothers, transforming into a quiet sapphire shining of a tranquil light and passion for chemistry. Then there were Jongin and Sehun, the twins, a pure topaz who grew in a ballet room and a deep sixteen years old amethyst in love with the joys of life.

And then, there was Baekhyun.

They called him “ _The Sad Prince_ ”.

The whole Paris knew his name. No, not his real name, but the one other people gave him. That false definition of his person everyone liked to go with. They may have known his real name, the one his parents gave him as the first gift on the day of his birth, but they preferred going with the crowd, like the sheep of a flock. Because Byun Baekhyun had always been the different flower in his family’s field. Like a black flower that negatively stands out among the others, catching every passing eye not just because of his beauty, but for all those marking differences in his appearance. He was a ruby, burning of a different light. He was red, he was all the strongest and hottest colors of the prism.

And he was caged.

He was caged, like a little bird with broken wings.

The mansion was huge, a beautiful frame for such a perfect painting, but Baekhyun felt every empty corner of that place. He didn’t like perfection. He hated everything that comes with it. Despite loving his family, he didn’t feel like a part of them. He was a foreign flower that has grown in the wrong field. But it was the whole Paris, that shining, blinding diamond, that didn’t feel like home, because it was all a mask. A golden mask made of light, rich streets, nobles walking around with their expensive clothes and jewels, only to hide lies, the lies of a perfect heaven.

Baekhyun grew up reading the words of all those romantic poets that made France great. They told their feelings, tearing their hearts apart to show the world what was inside, never letting rules and conventions free to contaminate their art. The peculiar beauty of emotions, with their deepest fears and most blinding joy, who found grace even in the loneliest of all flowers. So Baekhyun read, read and read until his brain couldn't take anything in anymore, finding new companions in every page, like the ones made of printed words were the only entities able to understand what was going on inside his heart.

But then, the Laws came and the Romantic art met its death.

Due to the destruction brought by the French Revolution, the government issued a law in 1852 which prohibited every form of art free from the classical and canonical representation, declaring the Romantic movement an abomination because of its use of historical and passion-centered themes. The government started to burn books and paintings and kill every artist or person found transgressing the Law in public executions, having the world to see.

They wanted to bury their failure. They wanted to forget, to hid that destroyed pride that lead them to the defeat the whole Europe saw and wrote about. They needed a scapegoat and they found it in the most brutal and vivid reminder of France’s decline. The ones who could, hid, changed names, run away taking their art with them. Who couldn’t, just died. Like meaningless leaves falling from a monstrous tree.

And Baekhyun saw every one of them.

So he did the same.

He hid.

When he saw the first process, he ran away with the smell and sound of burning corpses and books hanging on his body, reaching his family’s library and taking all his books with him. He threw them all in a sack of cloth and took them away, running faster than the wind, determined to protect the last piece of what someone else decided to destroy. It was when he found it: the ruins of a cathedral that fell with France after the Revolution. He rushed inside, finding a small place under the intact altar and left them here only after greeting them with a hug and the promise of meeting again.

And so he did.

He came back everyday, running to the only place that slowly started to feel like home.

His parents didn’t know, or at least didn’t mind asking where their son would go every afternoon. They were too occupied with their aristocratic needs, organizing and attending big events for the high society of France. His brother Kyungsoo was the only one who knew, just like every time Baekhyun had a secret, because he would look at him in the eyes and immediately understand that there was something troubling his older brother. Kyungsoo was with him during that first process and all the followings, looking at Baekhyun’s eyes, burning with the fire that reflected in his orbs. He saw him running away and disappearing for hours, that day.

But he never asked.

He just knew.

He knew his brother needed a place that could let him finally breathe, away from all the apparent perfection their world was. So he would just stay there, at the window, looking at his brother running away, with the hope of seeing him again and, every night, he came back. Every day, he would be back before the sunset.

Except that day.

Only that one day, Byun Baekhyun didn’t came back before the morning after.

It was the sixth of May.  

  
❀ 

 

What followed the Laws, was chaos.

The air was impregnated with blood, soaked in the tremendous screams that resonated in every street of Paris. The glittering city made of pure gold was burning with the flames of Hell instead, all the precious metal slowly melting, freeing the real face of Paris, the one that shining mask was desperately trying to hide. The soldiers were everywhere, searching for all those artists the government decided to destroy. Workshops and ateliers’ doors started falling like lifeless trees under the strength of all those men, letting them free to destroy whatever they found inside.

Both artworks, or people.

And Park Chanyeol was there.

He saw his art die with his parents.

For all his life, he looked at his world crumbling down into pieces every night. It was always the same dream, the same nightmare, repeating itself without a break: his mother’s eyes being emptied of all their light under the blade of a silver sword, his father’s body being devoured by the flames, with that crackling sound that became the background noise of all his fears.

Chanyeol still remembers it, the smell that infested the air, when lifeless bodies and deceased art ascended to the skies and became one through the ashes, infesting like a ghost those who managed to run away from Hell.

And Chanyeol saw every one of them.

So he did the same.

He hid.

He met Jongdae when they were both still kids, depraved of their parents. Jongdae’s one was a family of singers and they used to perform in the high society’s cafes, where intellectuals and artists met. But just like Chanyeol’s, they had been killed by the government. They sang songs about the Revolution and its greatness, about future, about hope. Soldiers decided it wasn’t admissible anymore, so they just took out their gun and shoot.

While Jongdae was running away, he heard both his parents’ last screams.

They were barely 12 years old when their savior found them: Zhang Yixing was a small, young man that owned a pharmacy in the suburbs of the city. He didn’t even have enough money to live decently, but he decided to give a home to the two orphans nonetheless and did everything that was in his power to protect them. He started an illegal commerce of asian medical herbs in the black market, risking his own life just to save theirs.

When they both got older, they decided it was time to repay him. Jongdae became a singer in the suburban locals of Paris, singing the same songs his parents sang in front of hundred of hidden artists and supporters of the Revolution. Despite being in danger, Jongdae never stopped. He sang

those same songs, hoping that his parents were listening to him from the skies, looking proudly at their son’s bravery.

_“This is for my parents, for the Revolution, for those who fell. Vive la France, Vive la Revolution!”_

He always said that same quote every night, looking at the ceiling, in the direction of the sky, closing his eyes for a moment and imagining his parents next to him.

Chanyeol did it too.

A year after his parents’ death, he was walking in the suburbs, munching on a three days old piece of bread, when his eyes caught something: it was his father’s old atelier. He was just wandering, listening to the sound of the wind and the background noise of his thoughts, and his feet unconsciously took him to the place he used to call home. There was barely nothing anymore, just a destroyed door and broken pieces of what used to be there, slashed canvas on the floor and old tools scattered around the room, but Chanyeol took a step further, entering. He closed his eyes, hearing the sounds of his memories. He could still hear it, his mother singing while his father portrayed her, looking at his first and only love with eyes full of stars. Chanyeol didn’t know if it was just his imagination, but he swore he could still smell his father’s oil colors, dancing through the pages of his memory. He spent all his time there, learning from his dad, absorbing everything there was to know. When he was ten, his parents already considered him a little prodigy of arts, exposing his small paintings on the walls like he was their biggest pride. And he actually was. The biggest treasure Park Dongyeol and Park Eunji had.

After that day, Chanyeol decided that he would have followed his father’s steps, becoming the living ghost of his parents’ souls.

So he started painting, reading, composing, writing. He became everything his father was and dreamed to be. He painted the stars, the moon, the mid-summer nights’ clouds, giving his parents’ name to everything that looked at him from the skies, imagining their souls dancing on every celestial body the universe owned.

Until one day.

One day, his heart found a different muse.

His muse was a _he_.

The first time he met him, Chanyeol was strolling through the upper parts of the city, casually admiring the metropolitan landscape from a roof; a pencil in one hand, papers in the other, looking at a different kind of life sliding under his feet. Nobles were peculiar, he thought, with those embroidered dresses, styled hairstyles, jewels and wealthiness showing, with eyes that betrayed the filter of a perfect fiction. They were blinding, destabilizing chipping of gems, glittering under the heavy sun.

Then, Chanyeol saw six different people near the Seine’s shores; their cloaks dropped on the ground, shoes scattered just near. Three of them were running after the others along the river, one was looking at them with serene and lovely eyes.

But the last one was different.

He just stood there, so out of the picture, sitting alone: eyes lost in the Seine, red cloak still wrapped around his shoulders, the expression of a soul that didn’t fit.

When Chanyeol looked at him for the first time, he swore he saw him shining. His glow wasn’t like any star, it was golden. He shone of a light Chanyeol never met before, a kind he didn’t know if he would have ever been able to portray.

He was a _daffodil._

_A golden daffodil._

His light was lonely, like a dark note coming from a piano. He was golden, but all the other daffodils that surrounded him were silver. His muse looked like he had no place. His eyes were searching for a distant nothing, his body gently dancing in the breeze, but never reaching his siblings’ petals. While the others danced on the same notes, his daffodil looked like he lived of a music on his own, while his stem moved in a different direction. He was beautiful, more than every night sky he ever painted, more than every song he ever composed, more than any poem he ever wrote. More than the stars, the sun, the moon. He was all of them, he was a kind of art no one understood.

But Chanyeol was willing to discover all the secrets that flower hid.

He observed the boy deeply, focusing on his every movement, everything that surrounded him slowly blurring and then disappearing completely. As Chanyeol understood, he wasn’t sad, nor cold, judging from the adoring glances he sent to his brothers trying to involve him in their games: he looked foreign, locked in a glass cage, restricted and restrained behind invisible barriers. It was like his heart wanted to be somewhere else, just like his eyes wandering on the Seine’s surface once again, while his body was slowly shivering under the pressure of the spring wind. He gently adjusted his cloak, making sure his shoulders were completely covered, throwing one last lovely smile to the other boys.

Chanyeol was totally, deeply and irrevocably entranced. He felt under a spell, completely captured by the mysteries that lonely figure seemed to hide, so he started climbing down the roof he was sitting on, getting nearer and nearer to the boy. Silently hiding behind a tree, Chanyeol observed how his traits looked even more destabilizing from up close, like an hypnotizing angel made of a light that didn’t belong to the Heavens, nor to the Earth, but somewhere in the middle, where humans didn’t dare to explore. Chanyeol’s hands started to tremble, feeling the sudden need to draw those entrancing traits on paper, so he reached for the pencil in his pocket, but the boy suddenly started to move. He saw him throwing glances at his brothers and then in the opposite direction, like he was subtly trying to do something no one was supposed to see, slowly adjusting his cloak once again. With one last look, he proceeded toward the main street, far away from the other boys, who didn’t realize he wasn’t there anymore. Chanyeol’s feet acted even before his brain could formulate an order, instantly moving to reach the running boy but making sure to maintain a certain distance from him. His flower moved skillfully, rapidly passing through the thick crowd of nobles on the street, tightly holding the edges of his cloak’s hood. Chanyeol noticed how not even once he raised his head while walking through the mob: he looked like he didn’t want to be recognized, hiding his beautiful face and body under a layer of red fabric, leaving the poor artist wondering once again what deep mysteries that peculiar daffodil was concealing so desperately. Chanyeol kept following him through the smallest roads, curious about where the boy was unconsciously taking him. They were coasting the Seine’s course, through the main road and the merchants’ streets, walking for a few minutes toward a place the painter knew nothing about but, being someone adventurous, he enjoyed the stroll around the city and the sight of the figure running in front of him. All at once, the boy roughly stopped and threw a few glances to his surroundings, obligating Chanyeol to hide behind the first wall he saw. In that moment, the painter repeatedly thanked his poor conditions that forced him to steal different kinds of food in the upper parts of Paris, making him an expert in hiding and a clever climber. Chanyeol waited a few seconds before starting his chase again and then he rapidly followed the other figure, running for a place that seemed to be infinitely distant. The other boy finally started to slow down his steps, leading toward a group of trees in the eastern part of the Seine. Chanyeol’s mind was occupied by different thoughts, like why would the boy be hiding in that kind of place, but he was more than willing to understand his reasons and everything else that surrounded that living and moving mystery. While walking, the trees started to dissipate, forming an actual wall that separated them from the rest of Paris. The boy chased the light after the thick cluster of plants and when they reached it, Chanyeol understood: he found himself in front of ancient ruins, the sign of a destroyed past that fell and burnt down with the fires of Hell. Judging from what was still there, it was a gothic cathedral that had been demolished during the Purge of the arts, after the Restriction Laws had been approved by the government. While Chanyeol hid behind an old pillar, he started wondering how many lives passed in front of all that, how grand and astonishing a structure like that could have looked during the best of its days, how would it be if nothing had been destroyed out of an egoistic shame. After all those years, the storm he felt inside his veins was still furious, knowing that he would have never understood why the Mother of all arts, the great France, allowed that animalistic and brutal murder that killed her own prole. While his mind was flying, Chanyeol almost failed to notice the other boy coming out of the biggest structure, holding a book under his arms, hugging it like his own life depended on it.

For the first time, the boy’s lips were curved in the sweetest of all expressions, his eyes betraying a longing feeling while his slander fingers gently caressed the pages. For the first time, Chanyeol understood how the smile of a flower looked like. For the first time, Chanyeol felt his heart sink.

From that moment, starting from that very first smile that wasn’t even addressed to him, Chanyeol never stopped coming to that place every afternoon, at the same hour, looking for the boy who stole a part of his heart. Every time, he would climb on a distant ruin, sure the boy was too lost in those pages to notice him, and drew. After that day, one year passed and Chanyeol was still there, but never finding the courage to talk to him.

He just drew him, surrounded by a host of thousand, golden daffodils.

Until one day.

It was the sixth of May.  

 

❀

  
 

Baekhyun never celebrated his birthday. Since he and his brothers were born, his parents never organized anything for them; they were so used to their aristocratical parties that they just didn’t see the need of celebrating a specific day every year. They were also often out of the country, their father being a famous art collector that searched for masterpieces all over the world.

Baekhyun hated what his father loved to collect.

The man owned a whole corridor in the house, with the walls studded by hundreds of valuable pieces. Baekhyun used to pass through it, initially throwing glances at all the paintings displayed, but rapidly losing interest. They were plain, empty canvases full of perfect techniques that held no meaning. Emotionless, fake representations of the feigned greatness of a country that lost its battle for freedom, shamelessly killing every hope that hanged in the air, suffocating it along with the thousands of screams that filled the streets during those days tinted with blood. Baekhyun could see the figure of his father replicated with brushstrokes on the white surface, represented like a king, like the god of a dead country that was just as empty.

It was fake, it was a mask, the illusion of a power both his father and France didn’t own.

His father was a pawn lost in the enchanting game of money. He was intrigued, bonded with a fake love that came in the form of material possessions. He wanted to be a king, the emperor of a reign he himself created, deceptively lulled in all the sweet lies he was surrounded with.

And Baekhyun wanted none of it.

When people told his older brothers that they’ll be just like their father, he always felt his insides revolting. Every night he prayed to a god with no name or face, praying for his brothers, praying that they won’t fall in the same trap. He wasn’t a believer, he had no faith, but he felt the need to feel something, to know that some kind of invincible entity was up there listening to him. He sang his words to the skies, to the stars that made it shine, hoping for the unknown.

Many artists tried to portray his heavenly traits, but he always refused them.

Just like they did with his father, they represented him like an hero. In those paintings, his figure looked stronger, almost mythological, like some kind of greek semi-god that filled the canvas with all the power he emanated. He saw the looks those painters threw him, full of disgusting lust, empty of real interest but studded of a perverted desire. Some of them would come too near him, some of them would touch his skin, some of them would whisper him dirty words when no one was looking. They offered him sex, money, gifts, making him feel like one of those art pieces his father collected: an object loved for its aesthetic beauty, deprived of meaning, with the sole purpose of pleasing.

So he refused them.

Every one of them.

All his brothers had portraits hanged in the gallery, except him. He didn’t want to look at that fake representation of what he wasn’t.

But on that sixth of May, something changed.

It was the day of his nineteenth birthday.

Just like every afternoon, he was prepared to reach his secret place, that day more eagerly than any other, but he felt a delicate hand tapping on his shoulder. When he turned around, he saw the round, sweet face of his younger brother, Kyungsoo. He was hiding his hands behind his back, still looking at him from up close, leaving Baekhyun wondering the meaning behind his odd behavior.

 **«** Happy birthday, Hyung » his brother softly spoke, still smiling with his heart shaped lips. Baekhyun always thought they looked pretty, like a little rose bud.

 **«** Thank you, Kyungsoo » he returned the loving smile. Of course, Kyungsoo would remember.

 **«** And this is for you » the younger removed his hands from his back, revealing a small,  
rectangular shape, enveloped in a red, embroidered fabric and closed with a white bow.

Baekhyun stared at it for a moment, gently holding it in his hands when his brother encouraged him to take it. Kyungsoo did it every year. Since Baekhyun taught Kyungsoo how to read, he started gifting him a different book every May 6th, never forgetting his promise of repaying his brother for all the time he spent helping him. But those books weren’t simple ones.

They were part of the Forbidden Index.

They were the books the government tried to destroy.

After the Purge, many hid those books, just like Baekhyun did. The ones who became poor, soon started to sell them in the black market for exorbitant prices, but Kyungsoo didn’t mind. He risked his freedom and life every time, with the same carelessness of a child, because his Hyung worth more than all of that to his little heart. Because Baekhyun protected him when his other brothers didn’t want him, when they looked at him like an outcast. They were all just children, but Baekhyun made them understand that Kyungsoo was just as worthy. They spent all their summer days reading adventurous novels about pirates and princesses, dreaming about distant lands together while lying on the fresh grass and looking at the sky. Baekhyun defended him when their parents’ friends spoke to him like he was the son of a sin, shielding him with his little frame and arms that used to look so fragile. Baekhyun was always there, watching Kyungsoo take all his most important steps. He was there when Kyungsoo said his first word, which was “Hyung”. He was there when Kyungsoo learnt how to tie his shoes without any help. He was there when Kyungsoo sang for the first time, while accompanying him with the piano. He was there when Kyungsoo fell in love.

No one knew, except Baekhyun, who looked at him slowly falling, lulled in that new feeling the young Kyungsoo never felt before.

Because Kyungsoo was in love with Jongin, their own brother.

And Jongin felt the same. 

In the eyes of other people, it would have looked wrong. They would have stared at them, full of disgust in their sententious eyes. Kyungsoo, the product of a sin swimming in the waters of an even bigger shame.

But Baekhyun wasn’t like them.

He believed that love had no name, no face, no boundaries, no shame. To Baekhyun, love was something every being could feel. It was in the summer wind blowing among the trees, gifting them life. It was in the stars, that gave their all to make the sky shine through the dark. It was in the sun and the moon, who collapsed every night and every day to let the other overhang the Earth. It was in their housekeeper Cécile, who always made sure to prepare one more croissant, accurately enveloping it in a cotton napkin and reserving it for Armand, the gardener, who always looked at her from the windows. It was in their oldest dog Mongryeong, who always let the small JJangah eat first, watching her until she finished the last crumb of her meal and licking his white muzzle afterwards.

It was in Kyungsoo, who played the piano for Jongin during every one of his ballet lessons.

It was in Jongin, who gently caressed Kyungsoo’s tired hands after he played for hours, touching them like the most precious of all treasures.

Baekhyun just stood there, looking at a world who hid the simplest yet most powerful of feelings behind its darkest surface, but never having the chance to experience it himself. He knew how to love, he felt it for everything that made him feel worthy. He felt it for Kyungsoo and for all his brothers. He felt it for Cécile and for Armand. He felt it for Mongryeong and for JJangah. He felt it for his books and for the sound his hands made while touching his piano’s keys. He felt it for midnight summer’s days and for deep winter nights.

He had all that love, concealed in his heart, without the ability of freeing it.

But Kyungsoo knew it.

Even if his brother never told him how much he treasured him, he knew. Even if his brother never hugged him back, he knew. Even if his brother flinched when he tried to touch his hands, he knew. Even if his brother didn’t know how to open up his heart, he still knew. He knew about all the love Baekhyun wasn’t able to show.

So when Baekhyun finally took his gift in his hands and stared at him with teary eyes, Kyungsoo saw it: all that love overflowing, trying to find the key to open the cage it was hidden in. Kyungsoo touched his brother’s hand, who flinched at the touch and stared at the movement a little too long, but he felt happy because he made his _Hyung_ smile once again.

 ** _«_** Can I open this...at _my place_? » Baekhyun was whispering quietly and even though Kyungsoo would have loved to see his brother’s expression while he opened his gift, he still nodded. He just wanted to see him happy, to see the real, old Baekhyun the others’ weren’t able to witness.

 ** _«_** Sure _Hyung!_ It’s your birthday, today you can do whatever you want! » the younger spoke just as softly, passing his brother’s bag to him. « Now you should go, it’s getting late. Don’t worry, if Cécile asks, I’ll cover you »

Baekhyun didn’t say anything, but the smile he had while looking at his brother was enough.

_I’m glad to see the real you resurfacing, Hyung. Even if it’s just for a moment, I know you’ll come back, one day._

Kyungsoo thought.

_Just like the flowers every Spring._

 

❀

  
 

That day, Baekhyun ran faster than ever. He didn’t know why, it wasn’t like he had someone waiting for him, but the idea of opening his gift surrounded by the place he loved more than any other was unconsciously making his feet race, just like his heart. He went through the mass of bodies walking on the streets, his face covered by the thick, red cape, not caring about all the annoyed stares he received when he bumped into someone. Too happy, too lost in his own world to see what was outside, his destination being the only thing he was able to see. So he ran, ran feeling his freedom, feeling the air through every fiber of his body, feeling like he was about to fly away, dancing in the breeze.

When he reached his secret place, he finally felt his heart at peace. He stopped in the middle, surrounded by all those trees already imprinted in his mind, inhaling that familiar and uncontaminated scent. There, at the centre of his own world, with his brother’s gift still tucked under his arm, he felt invincible. In that moment, he was the prince of a secret reign, hidden under layers of past, free to be who he really was. That place had no mask and there he was able to remove his own, swimming in the waves of reality, throwing away all the lies the world outside was soaked with. He had no name, no identity. He was the prince of a perfect nothing.

He closed his eyes for a moment, slowly reaching the ground, with the sun shining on his features. When he was comfortably seated on the grass, with his cloak covering his body from the chilly wind, Baekhyun slowly took the gift out, gently caressing the embroidered fabric with his hands. He held the silky, white ribbon with the point of his fingers, untying the bow and revealing the item inside: it was a book, like every year, and he couldn’t be happier.

Baekhyun caressed the surface again, so carefully, treating it like the most precious treasure on Earth. _“Les Misérables_ ”, he read on the cover, engraved with golden letters.

« Hello, _new friend_ » he said, speaking to the book as if he was facing an actual person. « What mysteries do you hide behind your surface? »

Little did he know that there was someone observing him from distance, asking the same exact question to Baekhyun, but only in his mind. What mysteries did that beautiful flower hide behind his surface? Chanyeol didn’t know.

After a whole year passed observing him without the other knowing, Chanyeol had thousands and thousands of drawings that portrayed his features. He represented him from different prospectives, in different expressions, doing different actions, but there was always something that joined all those portraits together: his muse was always surrounded by a host of golden daffodils. Chanyeol didn’t forget the first time he saw him, when Wordsworth’s words started resonating in his head. So he just stood there, every afternoon, at the same time, hidden behind the trees, the bushes or the ruins of the old cathedral, observing him like he was the greatest show the whole Earth had to offer. Chanyeol thought that, maybe, he really was, with the wind caressing his dark hair, the nature smiling at him, the sun reflecting in his eyes.

One thing that Chanyeol discovered, was the day of his birthday. Just like that day, a few   after the first time Chanyeol saw him, the boy arrived holding a gift. It was wrapped in the same kind of fabric and he looked at it with stars shining in his eyes, making Chanyeol able to see a different side of him.

In that moment, Chanyeol felt himself falling desperately deeper.

He looked free, invincible, so different from the first time he saw him near the Seine. Chanyeol understood that he was looking at a caged, little bird that someone tried to stop from flying away, but in that place, under that blue sky, he was able to spread his wings, even if he still couldn’t reach the clouds.

So, that 6th of May, Chanyeol pronounced a silent promise. On that same day, the year after, he would have made his muse smile like that, taking the curvature of his lips as an egoistic gift for himself.

365 days after, Chanyeol was there.

Holding a little, yellow daffodil in his hands.

« You can do it, _Chanyeol_ » he was telling himself, with his heart running faster than ever while he looked at the other boy. « You waited for this moment for a whole year, you can do it »

When he was about to stand on his feet, Chanyeol threw one more glance to the boy, who was gently smiling while admiring his book, regardless of a poor painter that just felt his limbs melting again.

« You aren’t going to give up now, _Chanyeol_ » he slapped his own, red cheeks. « This is your moment! »

He inhaled and exhaled a few times, closing his eyes in the futile attempt of calming himself. He looked at the boy again, who was still admiring his gift, when he felt the wind slowly pushing him forward, like the whole universe was telling him to go. He gathered all his courage, placing one hand on his racing heart, and making the first, slow step toward the boy.

A few moments later, he was in front of him, with one arm stretched toward him, his hand holding the little flower, but his eyes remained closed for a second. When he found the bravery to open them, his muse was looking directly at him, with a confused stare that betrayed a hint of fear.

Chanyeol stared at him, entranced.

He felt in the eye of a hurricane, with the whole world collapsing around him, except for that one ray of light that shone through the wind’s walls. He was turning and turning around, with a single unmoving point. His muse was looking at him and only him for the first time, while everything that surrounded them seemed to be climbing down. The boy’s eyes were fixed on him, confused, like he didn’t know what to say to that strange boy who was in his secret place, holding a flower right in front of his eyes. Chanyeol felt like he lost the ability of speaking, his mouth being dry and unable to formulate even the easiest of words.

Because his flower, the most beautiful one, was all he always wanted to say, to write, to paint, to feel.

He just let the flower fall in his hands, as delicate as leaves, and run away, without looking back and feeling like the biggest coward in the world.

If he’d have stayed just a second more, he would have seen the boy smiling while looking at that lonely, golden daffodil that looked so much like him.

 

❀

 

 

« Who are you, _flower boy_? »

Under the starry archway of May, Baekhyun was still seating on the grass, delicately touching the soft petals of the little flower. With the utmost care, he traced its contours, memorizing how it looked at the highest peak of its beauty. While observing it, uncaring of the sky getting darker and darker above his head, he felt his heart beating on a different kind of music. It was an _Allegro_ , every beat being a different, rapid note resonating in his chest.

When he started taking the way back home, a slow walk down the streets, he was still looking at the flower, protecting it with his hands, afraid that the cold wind would damage his delicate, little corpse. Around him, Paris was already sleeping, embraced in the arms of the night, lulled by the silence. But Baekhyun was hearing music, a sweet piano composition that was following the notes of his heartbeat. It was dancing all around him, even if he knew it was just in his head, but he felt like it was carried by the wind, resonating through the walls.

He didn’t know the boy’s name, he barely saw his face, only being able to notice his tall figure and a mop of dark, wavy hair, but he felt his heart thumping in his chest.

No one ever gifted him something like that.

Something so simple, so little, so delicate and fragile, but kept with the utmost care, just for him.

Baekhyun had many admirers and all of them promised him the world, trying to win his heart. They would come too near him, whispering lies in his ears, assuring him all the treasures they owned, but Baekhyun wanted none of that.

He just wanted to be loved.

He desired to be gently caressed by a feeling that was so precious that no wealth could be compared. He dreamt for that someone who would have been able to finally make him free to fly and spread his wings toward the sun. He searched for sincerity through all those waves of lies.

And he finally found it, in a gesture that seemed to be so simple, but that made Baekhyun’s heart beat like it never did.

« Will I ever see you again, _flower boy_? » he whispered to the flower, hoping for an answer he couldn’t receive.

Still looking at the flower, he reached his home, where a single light was still on, shining from one of the windows. He smelled the perfume of the flower one more time, letting his feet free to take him to his piano, in one of the biggest rooms. Baekhyun entered without closing the door, only preoccupied of making the little being rest near the keys. Almost unconsciously, his fingers started dancing on the piano. It was a melody with no name, just like that boy, that felt like it came directly from Baekhyun’s heart, made of his heartbeats and all the notes they produced. His hands were pressing the keys like they were made for it, gently touching every one of them. Baekhyun closed his eyes, lost in the music that seemed to be played by his heart’s strings, enveloping his body in peace. Everything around him started to disappear, leaving him alone with his thoughts, that only lead to the faceless boy. Silently, Baekhyun asked the destiny for a miracle, praying for them to meet again.

He pressed on the last note, declaring the song’s end, and gently took the flower in his hands again, making it lie on his palm like it was sleeping.

_Who are you, flower boy?_

« It’s been a while, Hyung » Kyungsoo’s voice woke him up from his trance.

« What? » Baekhyun uttered surprised, hiding the flower under the piano, but still holding it.

« It’s been a while since you played » his brother slowly walked toward him, with a gentle smile on his face. « It’s nice to hear you again. I missed it ».

Kyungsoo was right. The last time Baekhyun played the piano was the day before that first process. After that moment, everything changed and he never touched the piano again. What could he have done, when the whole world felt deprived of its music?

« Yeah, it’s been a while » a small smile took its place on Baekhyun’s lips, while he passed his hand on the surface of the piano, missing it like an old friend.

« You usually come back before the sun sets » he rested his arm on the instrument, looking at his brother with a hint of worry. « Did something happen? »

« Uhm? N-nothing » Baekhyun stuttered, unsure if telling his brother the truth was the right thing to do.

« So…what about that flower you’re trying to hide? » Baekhyun unconsciously strengthened his hold and lowered his head, looking at the ground while his cheeks heated up. Kyungsoo grinned. « You can’t hide anything from me. Come on, did something nice happen? You look serene, tonight »

_You almost look like the old you, before it all happened._

The older brother sighed, before giving in. « Someone gave this to me, today ». He tried, but he wasn’t able to hide the small smile that appeared on his lips at the memory. He felt the delicate notes resonating in the air one more time. « I don’t know who he was, I barely saw his face, but he came out of nowhere and just gave me this little flower. I wish I knew his name, but he ran away before I could even open my mouth to speak ».

« That’s pretty different from all the gifts you usually receive from your admirers »

« Yeah, but that’s what makes it special, isn’t it? » Baekhyun spoke softly, lovingly looking at the flower in his hands. « So simple, so genuine, so delicate, so _real._ They all promised me the Moon, when all I wanted was a piece of Earth ».

« Do you think you’ll meet him again? »

« That’s what I’m hoping for » he looked at his brother, his eyes reflecting a light Kyungsoo wasn’t used to see. His heart felt at peace, observing the serene expression Baekhyun had while looking at his gift, so different from the sterne one he had every other day. Kyungsoo placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, lightly, before moving toward the door. Before walking out, he threw one last glance toward Baekhyun’s figure: he was caressing the flower, treating it like a sleeping being instead of a bare, little corpse. Then, softly smiling, he went away, with the image of his brother still imprinted in his mind.

That night, Baekhyun had no nightmares.

For the first time since he saw that fire destroying a part of his heart,  he felt at peace.

He dreamed of a tall, wavy-haired boy and a field covered by thousands of golden, dancing flowers.

 

❀

 

The morning after, Baekhyun woke up with a peaceful feeling spreading in his chest. He turned around in his bed, lying awake on the sheets and facing the little, dying flower on the other pillow. The small being was losing its colour, slowly but surely reaching the end of its days, and Baekhyun felt a soft thud in his heart. He took it in his palms again and moved it on the window, letting it die with the sun shining on its delicate figure.

Baekhyun spent his day looking out of that same window, watching the sun moving. When the midday’s light started to dim, he took his cloak, running faster and faster through that same mass of people. His feet followed the rhythm of his heart, which thumped and thumped without rest. The image of the tall, unknown boy was vivid in his mind, while the sun gently caressed his skin. He wondered if he would have been there, if the day before was just a part of his dreams, if his hope was going to die soon, like the little flower that was slowly losing its life under the beating sun. That familiar ensemble of trees came into his view, making his steps even wider, even if he felt his breath shortening and cutting his throat.

When he reached the middle, he saw the boy.

He was there, the _flower boy_ , holding a new, young and golden flower in his hands.

 

On the other side, Chanyeol turned around, facing the other boy who was walking toward him, letting the cape fall on his shoulders. His muse was there, surrounded by a nature that seemed to be made in his honour, with the sun shining in his eyes and the birds singing for his smile. He stopped two feet away from Chanyeol and his world felt gifted of a new meaning. There, in that secret place they now shared, with the wind blowing through his hair, Chanyeol understood what the _first love_ felt like.

He remembered what his father told him when Chanyeol asked him what that strange feeling meant. It was a stormy night, thunders and wind tearing up the sky, and a small Chanyeol was curled up in his dad’s arms, with his nose pressed into the man’s chest. Since he was born, the painter had always been terrified by storms, hating that strange sensation he felt every time a thunder exploded, illuminating the world with a terrifying light. So, when he heard the first, distant noises, Chanyeol would always run to his parents, asking for a shield only his father’s arms could provide him.

When they died, no one was there to protect him from the skies screamed.

During that night, his father gently caressed his hair, and told him what love really meant. He taught him how that powerful entity came in so many different forms but had no boundaries. It was invincible, it couldn’t be caged, because it was everywhere. It had no body, no shape but danced in the air, as delicate as a leaf but as destructive as the cannons of a thousand armies. There was a first, there was a last, there was one, there were more, but once it came, it never disappeared.

That small child curled up in his father’s arms didn’t understand what he meant and for so many years he searched for that meaning, without finding it.

But in that moment, looking at the boy he chased for so long, he felt like he finally found it.

 

Baekhyun was looking at him, lips stretched in the realest of all smiles. From the first second his eyes landed on the boy’s figure, he thought he was beautiful. He wasn’t a prince, covered in poor, simple clothes, with his traits signed by a few scars, but, for Baekhyun, he looked like one. He was the main character of every novel he had ever read, shining in a kind of reality that was so different from what Baekhyun was used to see. He probably owned no lands, no diamonds, no mansions. He had no moons to promise him, but only a little, fragile piece of Earth that looked so much like everything Baekhyun ever wanted.

When he made one more step toward the boy, the other raised his arm, offering Baekhyun the little flower. He took it in his hands, softly looking at it for a moment, before locking his eyes with the boy’s again.

« A narcissus? » Baekhyun gently asked. « like the mythological men who died because he looked at his reflection? »

« I prefer to call them _daffodils_ » the boy answered. « I think it suits them better »

Baekhyun giggled lightly. « And why a _daffodil_ out of all flowers? »

The boy smiled at him and then looked at the sky, before closing his eyes. « _I wandered lonely as a cloud, that floats on high o'er vales and hills, when all at once I saw a crowd. A host, of golden daffodils. Beside the lake, beneath the trees, fluttering and dancing in the breeze »_

Chanyeol opened his eyes again, staring at the boy again. The other was looking at him with confused eyes, but with an undeniable, little smile plastered on his lips. It was a kind of expression he couldn’t understand at his fullest, but he started to speak again.

« _The waves beside them danced; but they out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, in such a jocund company. I gazed and gazed but little thought, what wealth the show to me had brought. For oft, when on my couch I lie, in vacant or in pensive mood, they flash upon that inward eye, which is the bliss of solitude. And then my heart with pleasure fills and dances with the daffodils_ »

Chanyeol finished to act the poem, eyes full of the same stars he used to paint before his heart found a different way. His flower was still looking at him, studying his face for an answer. With his heart that felt heavier and heavier while thumping in his chest, Chanyeol gathered all his courage, putting all his feelings in the other’s hands, for the world to see, and spoke again.

« It was William Wordsworth who wrote it. He was strolling down the Thames’ shores, when he stumbled upon the most beautiful show he had ever seen. It was a host of thousands of golden daffodils for him, but in my case…I think it was just one. A lonely, golden daffodil that shined of a peculiar, different beauty, near the Seine » he stopped and then began again. « The first time I saw you, it was near the river. You were there with your brothers but you seemed to be part of a different world. A golden daffodil lost in a host of silver ones »

They were only a few meters apart from each other, but it suddenly felt like they were already intertwined. With his cheeks flushed and for some reason he still couldn’t understand, Baekhyun couldn’t do anything else but keep on looking at the boy in front of him. For a moment, there was silence, but it was full of something they weren’t yet able to name. Baekhyun was staring at the other, who looked so true, with the wind gently sweeping his uncombed locks. He held no mask, no veil he needed to destroy, because he understood that the boy was just like that: an impulsive beam of unstoppable feelings, deprived of the filter he was used to feel.

With all the confidence he could find in his heart, he tried to speak, keeping his voice steady.

« You saw _me_? Was I that daffodil on the Seine? »

« You were, you _are_ » the boy suddenly took a few steps forward, taking a long breath.

The sudden proximity made Baekhyun feel like the boy’s gaze was piercing through him, but there was something more that felt caught in a turmoil and it was his heart. He didn’t know the other but it was like someone had been finally able to read through him.

 

« I think you’re right. I don’t feel like a part of the world I was born in » he giggled softly. « I don’t know how you understood it just by observing me »

The boy smiled. « There was someone who once said that artists are capable of a greater knowledge, being able to understand even the littlest details thanks to a sensibility only they have. As a painter, I observe, I try to understand what I see and I give it all a meaning »

« So you’re a painter? » Baekhyun observed him, studying his movements. His behaviour showed a joyful soul, probably deeper than any other he had ever met, but his clumsy gestures betrayed his childlike heart, making him look like a kid hidden in a body that looked too big for him.

« I like to think that I am » he stretched his arm again, offering Baekhyun his hand. « my name is Park Chanyeol, may I know yours? »

Baekhyun was taken aback for a moment.

_He doesn’t know me?_

_He doesn’t know The Sad Prince?_

« You…you don’t know me? » he stuttered and the boy only laughed softly.

« Should I? » the other, _Chanyeol_ , was smiling beautifully. « We poor people don’t get to be around the high society a lot »

Baekhyun stopped, feeling his mouth stretching in the most sincere of smiles.

With the boy’s eyes locked in his, he finally felt as a part of something. In that moment, he wasn’t _The Sad Prince_ , but the regnant of his unknown reign, ruling on a perfect nothing that finally seemed to be full of something. There, surrounded by the trees and under a red sky, for the first time in his life, he was just Baekhyun. He was the boy who loved to read under the pensive sun, who was so used to steal Cècile’s croissants before going to sleep, who admired the world from a different prospective. He was the boy his brother loved, who was free from his cage, who knew no different identity other than his own, true one. For years he had been suffocated by the judging eyes of people who couldn’t understand him and the pain he felt when what represented the only certainties he had had been destroyed. For the first time since that cursed day, when his young self attended his own world’s funeral and everything around him turned into ashes, Baekhyun was finally able to start again. In front of him stayed someone who had no expectations, who knew nothing about him. Just like his own, elusive reign, in that moment, he was _no one_.

« No, no, you’re right, I’m… _no one_ » he breathed happily. « My name’s Baekhyun, Byun Baekhyun »

 

Chanyeol smiled and under the sky turning red, with the trees and the old cathedral’s ruins as the only witness, the buds of a sweet, first love just started to bloom.

And the spring came again.

 

  
  
  
❀ ❀ ❀  
  
  
  
  
  
 

 

###  **_ACT II: The Bird’s Symphony_ **

 

It’s the birds’ flight that announces the spring.

That free gliding that runs toward the clouds, that seems to have no destination, wings beating, bolting in the distance. For years, the idea of flying far away haunted Baekhyun’s mind, every night. Flying away from that cage made of pain, of the distance he felt from the world he was supposed to live in, of unspoken truths and rampant lies.

However, he had no place to run to and no wings to beat.

But then, the spring itself found the little bird.

Since the day he met Chanyeol, seasons seemed to have changed to a different rhythm. There was no winter, with its cold contaminating the air, freezing the streets, the fields, the hearts. There was no autumn, with its leaves falling and the world coloring of a bloody, desolated color.

Everything was suddenly warm. Everything was suddenly alive.

Days and days started to pass, even in that secret place that seemed to be ahead of time. Every day, they would meet, at the center of that world only they knew, made of those past’s scars, trees moving with the wind, soft laughters exchanged under the swinging sun, shy smiles shared between hearts that beat at the same time and two souls that resonated on a single symphony.

They talked and talked, until the sun started to dim, gifting the sky to the moon, but there was something Chanyeol never told the other before.

Baekhyun didn’t know that the painter observed him for a whole year, drawing his features from every prospective, surrounded by fields of flowers. He didn’t know he was his muse, the reason his art completely changed and found its way. Chanyeol tried to confess him the truth many times, but he never found the courage, scared that Baekhyun would consider him another one of those disgusting men that only wanted to take advantage of him and his beauty.

But one day, Chanyeol decided it was the right moment.

He gathered all his courage along with his drawings and reached their place. When he passed the host of trees, Baekhyun was already there, with his face facing the sun, eyes closed in a serene expression. Despite his heart running like a steam engine, the painter took a breath and reached the other.

« Good afternoon, Chanyeol » Baekhyun said, with his eyes still shut. « The sun is beautiful today »

_You too, with the only difference that it’s not just today._

Chanyeol thought, but kept his mouth sealed, searching for that same courage he felt before.

« It is » he spoke. « But, Baekhyun, there’s…there’s actually something I wanted to say »

The other finally opened his eyes, focusing on Chanyeol with an expression that betrayed a hint of worry. He was still smiling, like every time he looked at him, but his eyebrows were slightly frowned.

« T-then go on »

Chanyeol inspired, aspired and started. « I…I always gave great importance to landscapes, because they reply to the question _where?_ , even though the viewers’ minds can only formulate inaccurate answers. There is no one that looks the same as the others do, nor similar, because not even in someone’s imagination, a landscape, can be the exact copy of the one in someone else’s head. There will always be something magical, even just a detail apparently insignificant, that can make those two places completely different. The way a person sees a landscape generates from their own story, their experience, their memories. For many years I observed the world around me, noticing how everything is the result of an agglomerate of little details, perfectly trapped with one another. For examples, there are many fields like the one we’re standing on right now but everything is in those infinitesimal trapped pieces that make this place different from any other ».

Baekhyun was listening to him, like he always did, looking at him like he was saying the most fascinating thing on Earth. Every time Chanyeol talked, Baekhyun would throw him those longing glances, amazed by every one of his words, making his mere opinion turn into gold. He looked like a child observing the world around him, like everything was a source of infinite wonders.

« Now that I’m here, seated with you, I realize that there are a lot of details to talk about: from the trees dancing at our backs, to the old church’s ruins, the Seine roaring just a few meters away from us or the wind moving every blade of grass. When I started painting, I declared landscapes as the only subjects able to portray my feelings. I painted the skies and the stars, because I knew that my parents are there ». Chanyeol felt a thud on his heart and small tears threatening to fall. He stayed strong, he promised it to himself, he swore that he would have never cried again, even if the pain was consuming his insides.

Baekhyun slowly approached him, shortening the distance between their bodies. After a second, Chanyeol felt a gentle touch on his hand. It was delicate, he could barely feel the other’s fingers on his, but it was there. A simple gesture that seemed so hesitant, almost as if Baekhyun was scared to touch him or didn’t know if it was the right thing to do. Chanyeol reacted before even thinking straight, welcoming the other’s hand into his palm and gently started caressing his fingers. Baekhyun flinched for a moment but didn’t tear his hand away from Chanyeol’s hold.

« Did they… _die_? » Baekhyun was hesitating again, stuttering with his words, but looking at Chanyeol with so much worry that his heart flipped in his chest.

« It happened during the Purge » Chanyeol sighed, looking at Baekhyun’s hand on his. « My father was a painter, my mother was his muse, but they didn’t agree to the Law’s rules. My father didn’t want an empty art or to represent the greatness of a country that didn’t even exist anymore. The Great France was just an illusion and the Revolution demonstrated it. The government didn’t want the feelings, afraid of what they would be able to resurface. They wanted the academical strictness, they wanted to suffocate the freedom of expression, in order to obtain a form of art that was just fake »

Chanyeol caressed Baekhyun’s palm.

« My father refused to follow their orders and kept making his own art…but then the Hell came to Earth »

Baekhyun flinched, as if remembering those moments was just as painful for him. Even if it felt unsure, Baekhyun’s hand held Chanyeol’s one for a second.

« I was just a kid but I saw things children shouldn’t be able to see. I still remember my parents’ last breath, before they died together. Everything is still here, in my mind, engraved for the rest of my life: the guns’ shots, people screaming, blood flooding on the streets and that disgusting smell of death that hanged in the air. No matter how much time will pass, they’ll forever be here. Every damn night I hear those screams ».

Before they could even realize it, sad drops started to run down their cheeks, almost concurrently, drawing the same wet paths. In that moment, they could feel their heart connecting with a strong, red string, that enveloped both of them and separated them from what stood outside. Their hands were still intertwined, while the world around them was slowly turning into dust, disappearing.

« After that, I found Jongdae, my best friend and then Yixing, who saved us from the streets. When I almost unconsciously reached my father’s destroyed atelier one year after, the past came back, like a violent wave. But in that moment, I realized that I couldn’t be a lost child anymore. I had to help Yixing and honor my parents’ life. So I decided to follow his steps and I became an artist, but not the kind of artist France wanted me to be. If they have to kill me, then I’ll die for freedom ».

Baekhyun’s stare was burning on Chanyeol’s skin, while the boy unconsciously strengthened his hold on the painter’s hand. They were only a few inches apart and the only thing Chanyeol wanted to do was to let his body go, collapsing on Baekhyun’s chest and feeling his warmth on his body frozen by the memories. He resisted, but he knew he couldn’t hesitate anymore: he had to confess the truth.

« So I started to paint, to write, to compose, inspired by what my father had done. I painted excerpts of the Revolution, I painted the night skies where my parents sleep, but I always felt like something was missing. Something my father had but I didn’t » he inspired. « _A muse_ »

Chanyeol reached for his pile of sketching papers behind his back, taking a breath.

« And I found it…near the Seine » he gave the papers to Baekhyun, making them lie in his hands with cure, like he was gifting him a piece of his heart, silently asking him to protect it. « It’s you, Baekhyun »

Baekhyun looked taken aback, slowly taking the papers in his hold. His mouth was slightly opened. « _Me?_ »

« _You_ » he answered.

The other boy just stared, looking at the drawings one by one. He was browsing through the pages, while every one of those moments started to revive in his mind. There was Baekhyun reading, sleeping, looking at the sky, _smiling_ , surrounded by thousands and thousands of flowers. Daffodils, made of a few pencil lines, but he could almost feel their color: they were gold. Baekhyun instantly thought about the portraits and paintings his father owned, but Chanyeol’s art looked nothing like that. The boy’s heart started to sink, deeper and deeper, toward his stomach, but he could feel it beating in every one of his bones.

_This is me._

That was him, it was Baekhyun.

There was no _Sad Prince_ , but just him, lost in his own reality. He looked like no hero, he wasn’t standing ahead of a dark sky, with a victorious glare plastered in his eyes. Chanyeol captured everything Baekhyun was and made it beautiful. Staring at Chanyeol’s art was like looking at himself with someone else’s eyes and, for a moment, the boy thought that he wanted the whole world to see him like that.

_This is me._

Baekhyun just kept on staring and staring, assimilating every line, every shade, every small flower Chanyeol drew. He gently caressed it, feeling the paper with his digits, but softly, so afraid to ruin even a single trace of pencil. He couldn’t feel anything around him, just like it all turned into nothing, leaving only him at the center. His heart was running in his throat now, it was almost exploding, cutting his breath short while an invisible hand was holding his insides. Baekhyun was overwhelmed, waves of different feelings crashing on his shoulders.

_This is me._

« _This is me_ » he said, almost whispering.

« It’s _you_ »

It was him.

Him and only him.

« I’d understand if you wouldn’t want to see me ever again and you think that I’m mental but- »

« _Paint me_ » he suddenly turned his head, locking his eyes into Chanyeol’s. Baekhyun was crying, speaking as if he just ran for hours, his voice almost dying in his throat, chocked by the tears. « Paint me, Chanyeol »

Chanyeol couldn’t understand his reaction, but Baekhyun was looking at him as if the world depended on his single answer. His eyes were fixed, staring at nothing else but Chanyeol and the boy’s heart was beating uncontrollably. He was expecting a slap, a shout, angry words threatening him and telling him to burn those drawings, but not that. Baekhyun was crying, his eyes full of something Chanyeol couldn’t place.

« You want me to…portray you? » his words were hesitant.

« Yes, Chanyeol, _please_ » in that moment, Baekhyun looked broken. There was nothing ahead of him, protecting his inner self like a shield. He was naked, guard down, pouring every emotion into his eyes. Chanyeol could read all kind of feelings passing through that glare.

« Why? » it was a simple question, yet Baekhyun seemed to be shaken by it. He moved his eyes to the ground, making Chanyeol miss the weight of that stare. He closed them for a moment, taking a breath, before directing his head to the sky for a short moment.

« My father is an art collector » he started speaking, low tone and wandering eyes. « All kind of painting passed through the corridors of my house. Every time he comes back from a journey, he brings back something new »

_Then why do you look like you need my art so much?_

« But there’s something that ties all those paintings together » he stopped. « They’re all _fake_ »

Chanyeol flinched.

« They’re fake. Fake pieces of a fake perfection. They’re all lies, lies my father needs to see to convince himself that him and this country aren’t trembling down into pieces » Baekhyun’s eyes changed, betraying a veil of disgust, his words cutting Chanyeol’s skin like knives. « They’re all the same. Even all his portraits look the same. He always has that kind of stare, that expression that makes him feel like he can rule the world, like he’s some sort of an invincible God in human form. He looks like a greek hero, surrounded by a country that is doing nothing but killing its own people out of egoism. Looking at them makes me want to vomit. There’s no feelings, no truth, just plain canvases filled with technical perfection and nothing else but those stupid lies. He believes that France won over the Revolution, that _disgusting act of useless rebellion_ , when this country is slowly dying »

Baekhyun took a breath and Chanyeol followed, realising he was keeping it in since the other started talking.

« He tried to make us grow up like him, me and my brothers, pampered up in those money and fame he loves so much and, _God_ , I shiver every time someone wishes for us to become like him. Even the portraits…he tried to make us look like him » he stopped again. « He keeps all my family’s portraits in one corridor, hanged on the walls, like some sort of trophies…except _one_. Just one painting is missing »

Baekhyun closed his eyes, gathering his strength and pouring it all in his words, while Chanyeol just stood there, listening to him while gently interweaving their hands again.

« _Mine_ » the statement came out of his mouth as heavy as a rock. « All my brothers are there. My father, my mother, my ancestors…they’re all hanged there. Except me, because I _destroyed_ it ».

Chanyeol winced but Baekhyun was motionless, expression full of pain, disgust, sadness and anger. He was tightening his free fist, trying to contain the raging flame that was burning his heart. Suddenly, Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol with teary, desperate eyes and unconsciously his hold on the other’s hand tightened, like he was the only thing keeping him from falling down in an endless chasm.

« I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to look like him » his voice was weak. « But I don’t want to feel like an outcast. I want to see myself together with my brothers, but not in that way. So please, Chanyeol. _Paint me_ »

« But why _me_? »

Baekhyun inhaled, exhaled and stopped. « Since I was born, hundreds of artists tried to portray me. Some were hired by my father, some came on their own will. But it was always the same: what they painted wasn’t me » another breath. « The majority of them tried to win me by promising me… _things_. They said they could give me money, treasures, _sex_ »

There was something setting off in Chanyeol’s stomach. A spark, a flame, a fire burning his insides and transforming it all into ashes, devouring everything. His fist strengthened unconsciously at Baekhyun’s words, his stomach revolting. The one person who was so precious to him, more than any treasure, had been considered as nothing more than a mere object in the eyes of others. A devastating need to protect the boy in front of him started to envelop his whole body, making his hold on Baekhyun’s hand stronger than ever, like a sealed, timeless promise.

« They all came to me for my body, to try something the society considers as _prohibited_. They would come near me, whispering me dirty words in my ears, looking for a new thrill to satisfy their disgusting needs » Baekhyun was looking at their hands. « The first time it happened, I was only eleven years old. It was one of the painters my father hired, an english, middle-aged man. An important one, apparently. My father told me he was here to portray me and he left us alone in my room »

One, single tear escaped from his eyes.

Chanyeol raised his hand and caught it.

« But then he asked me to remove my clothes, all of them. I thought that it was fine, he just wanted to paint me after all, right? » Chanyeol’s knuckles were white. « But then he came too close to me and he started to lay his hands on me, trying to remove my shirt. I still remember those eyes. So perverted, so _sick_ »

One more tear.

Chanyeol dried it again.

« I manage to run away and I went to my father to tell him everything that happened. Do you know what he told me? » Chanyeol shook his head. « That I had to do what he told me. He screamed at me, saying that I just disrespected an important artist and that I was just telling lies. He called me a spoiled child. Can you believe it, Chanyeol? My father was more worried about a pedophile rather than his own son »

Baekhyun laughed, but it was a bitter, sad sound, accompanied by painful tears. Chanyeol was burning, so he did the only thing he felt right in that moment. He leaned over Baekhyun and hugged him, so tight, silently promising him to never let go.

« I was just a child. A child that wanted nothing more than his father’s approving » Chanyeol could feel Baekhyun’s tears falling on his neck so he just held him stronger, caressing his head, trying to make him feel all the affection that was overflowing from his heart. « After that moment, I refused every painter and I destroyed the only painting I had. I teared it up with a knife. My father beat me but I didn’t even want to care anymore. I just took all the punches, the slaps, the screams and the angry words. I didn’t care. I didn’t care. The image I had of my father had been completely destroyed. Everything I wanted was to be everything he hated »

Baekhyun was lulled by Chanyeol’s hold and suddenly all that pain felt so far away. He had someone who was willing to accept him just like he was, the _real_ him. Chanyeol’s arms felt so good around him, enveloping his body in a peaceful cradle. He disappeared into them, with his face pressed on his heart, that was running as fast as his. Everything Chanyeol was felt so much like _home_.

« I started reading. I found that literature that told stories about undying loves, passions, feelings, heroes and heroines. Those books gave me a place to be, where there was nothing to fear. But then, the Laws came and everything I had was destroyed » in that shared embrace, Baekhyun could feel Chanyeol’s feelings crashing over him, mixing with his, becoming one. They bared the same pain, the same memories hunting them during the worst of nights. « I was only twelve when I saw the first process. Everything was burning. Paintings, books, _corpses_. I saw it all dying in front of me »

Baekhyun completely buried his face on Chanyeol’s neck.

« So I just ran away, with that smell still in my nose. I took all my books and looked for a place to hide them. I don’t know how, but I run and run, until I found this. Every year my brother risks his life to gift me one of those books and I take them all here. He’s the only one who knows about his place » Baekhyun felt Chanyeol’s hand through his hair, sooting his thoughts. « After that moment, a part of me died. I felt suffocated, the society I was born in became even more unbearable. And then they just started to call me _The Sad Prince_. I didn’t even have a name anymore »

Baekhyun freed himself from Chanyeol’s hold, but keeping his hands near his shoulders, looking at him in the eyes.

« This is why I want you and no one else to paint me. Even just by observing me you understood me and you are the only artist who had been able to represent how I want to see myself. You understood the real me, Chanyeol »

Chanyeol’s just stared at him, at that beautiful mess in front of him, who looked like nothing else that existed on Earth. That lonely, peculiar but golden flower.

« Will you do it for me, Chanyeol? »

In that moment, he swore he never felt so sure about something in his whole life.

« I _promise_ »

With that, Chanyeol promised Baekhyun his art and so, so much more.

 

❀

 

Days started to flow and both their hearts never felt so alive. After so many years, Chanyeol and Baekhyun finally found a home, that didn’t have to necessarily be a construction, nor a place, because they didn’t need a physical location when it was all in the connection they shared. They still met at their secret place every afternoon, but it wasn’t the cluster of trees and ruins that gave them a sense of belonging: it was all in the words they shared, the smiles they gifted to each other, the longing stares under the sun. With the summer approaching, they started to lay on the grass, with their eyes closed and their hands that slowly started to wander: an amount of small, delicate touches of their fingers. It was mostly Chanyeol who used to initiate it, reaching for Baekhyun’s arms and moving his digits until they touched the other’s skin, so hesitantly, like the boy’s body was so sacred that he was almost afraid to touch it. Every time, they felt their stomaches burn in a kind of emotion they never felt before. It was a mixture of excitement, happiness, fear and many other feelings that still held no name. The sparkles of a first, young love that was starting to flare up, transforming into heat, then flames, then fire. Sometimes, Baekhyun would notice he was staring at Chanyeol a little too much, admiring every single detail on the boy’s face, from his joyful, round eyes that twitched with his laughter to the smile that never faded and made his insides melt into an indefinite puddle of new feelings. Other times, Chanyeol’s eyes would fell on Baekhyun’s lips, wondering how they would taste or feel pressed on his own. The glances transformed in longing stares and there were moments in which they just looked at each other, lost, without even noticing the seconds passing, before chuckling a little, embarrassed laugh when their cheeks turned red. It was weird, so sudden, like the snow in march, but it was there, as tangible as that white blanket, so real that they could almost touch it. Delicate, precious, dear.

During those days, Chanyeol started to paint Baekhyun.

He didn’t want Baekhyun to see his work before it was completely done. He wanted him to have that representation he wanted, the one of his soul and heart, without filters. He was determined to draw Baekhyun’s figure while observing him, transforming every one of his traits in grafite curves, reserving the actual canvas for the peace of his house. Chanyeol wanted to recollect his memory of Baekhyun at a later date, thinking about what the boy made him feel, how his skin almost burned when their fingers touched, how the other’s eyes shined more than every star. They used to spend their days near the old church, hidden by the trees, and Chanyeol would draw, for hours, while Baekhyun read, casually stealing glances of the other, chuckling at his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Sometimes, their eyes would meet and their hearts too, taking a moment to observe each other. For both of them, those were the most important minutes they shared, that made them able to realise that they were actually real, they were actually there for each other, that they weren’t lonely anymore. Every time, they would thank the stars and that god with no name.

One day, it started to rain.

Before, Chanyeol would start to panic, thinking about the thunders that reminded him of his parents’ death, with the noise of gunshots all around him. But, since Baekhyun came, all he thought about was trying to cover the other with his cloak. There wasn’t fear, just the laughs they shared while running under the pouring drops, holding each other’s hand like it was the most natural of things.

« I’ll take you to my home, follow me! »

« Are you sure it’s fine? »

« Do you think I would care even if it isn’t? » the smile Baekhyun gifted Chanyeol was the brightest and most beautiful he had ever seen, shining through his eyes and accompanied by a joyful laugh. He couldn’t help but smile back, while Baekhyun started dragging him by his hand again, still laughing with the rain falling on his face, glistering in the dark.

During those moments, there was nothing but them. They were free, free to laugh, free to dream, free to be, so far away from everyone else. They could sense it, the freedom flowing through every bone, enveloping their bodies, making their lungs full. It was almost like flying, high, toward the clouds, without caring about whatever they left back. Under the pouring rain, along the desolated streets of Paris, filled only by their voices and the sound of their steps on the wet ground, everything was at place.

They were tasting how real happiness felt like.

« There’s a canopy right there, let’s stop before we catch some illnesses! » Chanyeol heard Baekhyun’s voice through the sound of the rain and followed him, reaching the safe spot.

Their hands were still intertwined, lulled by the warm feeling the hold brought, and their cheeks were red, both too shy to look at each other at first. They kept their eyes stuck on the pouring rain, smiles still on their lips, but suddenly and concurrently their heads turned. Looking into each other’s eyes, with the sound of drops falling down, clothes still wet, made their stomach burn again, filling it with an odd and funny sensation. They stood there, without moving an inch, hands locked, forgetting about everything else but each other. Lost, lost in that feeling, lost in the other, lost in something only they shared. It was magic.

« You know, I used to be afraid of rain » Chanyeol spoke, but the spell didn’t fade.

« And now you aren’t? » Baekhyun’s smile was so tender on his lips.

Chanyeol chuckled softly, looking at the other boy: « Not so much anymore ».

Baekhyun understood what his words suggested and looked at his wet feet, blushing but smiling deeply.

« Why were you afraid, then? »

Chanyeol stopped, sighing, then looking up to the stars for a moment, before facing Baekhyun again. « It’s not actually the rain itself. I’m afraid of thunders. It’s like this since I was a kid » he said. « During those times, I used to run to my parents’ room, right into my fathers’ arms and he whispered me encouraging words while patting my hair. I felt so protected »

Baekhyun smiled and Chanyeol felt the other’s thumb hesitantly caressing his skin, their hands still intertwined.

« Before, I didn’t have an actual reason to be so afraid, but then my parents disappeared. Every time I hear a thunder I get reminded of the gunshots I heard that day and the fact that there isn’t anyone protecting me from the storms » Chanyeol looked at the sky again but then Baekhyun’s hand left his and reached his face, forcing him to meet the other’s serious but comforting eyes.

« But you have _me_ now » he said, whispering, almost covered by the sound of the rain, as if not even the deserted streets were supposed to hear him. « _I will protect you_ ».

As Chanyeol spoke, the only thing Baekhyun was able to think about was the raging desire in his heart that was telling him to protect him at every cost. Chanyeol looked broken, yet so bright, so _real,_ precious in every aspect of his being. From his twitching eye to his lanky legs, from his beautiful eyes to his delicate lips, from his insane obsession of climbing on every dangerous structure to the peaceful pain he inflicted to Baekhyun’s heart. Chanyeol was warm, Chanyeol was _fire,_ and Baekhyun promised to himself that he would have never let that flame burn out.

« _Promise?_ » Chanyeol raised his pinky finger and Baekhyun intertwined it with his own. Both their hearts were beating so loudly.

« _Promise_ »

In that moment, their promises had been engraved in the air, in the rain pouring, in that dark sky that was watching over them. Their eyes on each other, just like their hands, smiles shining like the stars above and every thing suddenly felt so right. With the perfume of those drops enveloping the early night and the faint blue light covering the streets, the two boys turned to look at the landscape of that lonely Paris, as if it was made just for them. A second after, Baekhyun was dragging Chanyeol again, toward the center of the street, uncaring of the rain. He was smiling so bright, so bright that Chanyeol’s heart skipped a beat, so bright that the night just found a light as powerful as its stars. The painter observed him, lost in all his beauty, with his head addressed to the sky, wet bangs falling on his closed eyes, impregnated with freedom.

Chanyeol didn’t know what love was but he was starting to think that it looked exactly like that.

« I like this » Baekhyun said.

« What? »

« _Us_ » he spoke again and Chanyeol lost another one of his beats. « Us, the rain, the deserted streets, being free. I like this »

Pushed by the moment, Chanyeol shortened the distance that separated him from Baekhyun and wrapped his arms around his waist, lifting him from the ground and starting to turn around. Baekhyun was laughing so beautifully and loudly, screaming at him and pleading him to stop, keeping his arms around Chanyeol’s neck. They felt so happy, hidden from a world that didn’t need to see.

« Are you going to take me home like this? » Baekhyun was still laughing and Chanyeol’s heart was flipping in his chest. The other felt so delicate, protected by his arms. Even if the painter knew the boy wasn’t weak, he still felt the desire to hide him from the rest of the world.

« Why not? » he chuckled and Baekhyun did the same.

« Do you think I'm a lady that has to be carried down the aisle? » his voice was soft.

« Certainly not a lady but I might have to admit that the idea of carrying you down the aisle wouldn’t be that bad » Chanyeol didn't even know where that courage came from, but his undying impulsiveness just multiplied whenever he was with Baekhyun. Having the other so near made his brain unable to think rationally. For a moment, he was worried he made the other uncomfortable, but Baekhyun softly laughed, blushing deeply and hiding his face in Chanyeol’s neck, without even realizing the intimacy of the action. A second after, he raised his head, cheeks ever redder than before, caught in the same impulsiveness. Just like Chanyeol, Baekhyun forgot everything else when they were together.

« Stop joking, you giant! » he said, with his hands covering his eyes and blushing face. « Put me down and let’s reach my home before we drown right in the middle of the street ».

Chanyeol did as Baekhyun asked, but once the other’s feet reached the ground, he took his hand again, holding it tightly. Baekhyun flinched and acted as if it was nothing, even if his stomach was in the middle of a destroying storm.

The rain kept pouring but the two young boys didn’t run, just to make the way longer, lulled by the warm feeling that enveloped both their hands and hearts. It was a peaceful but destabilizing sensation, having the stomach caught in a crashing movement of waves, their hearts like boats, floating on those tormented waters. The streets were still deserted, the night approaching and a comforting silence hanged in the air. They didn't need to speak, their hands slowly and hesitatingly caressing the other’s were enough.

They reached Baekhyun’s home a while later and Chanyeol observed how huge it was, feeling so small and insignificant for a moment. However, the smile the other gifted him was enough to make him feel like he was the center of the world, even if his hurt face and poor clothes were too dusty for the elegance of that place. Everything was silent in the huge mansion, the echo of their steps being the only audible noise. The palace was full, walls filled with paintings, rooms decorated with every sort of furnishings, but Chanyeol immediately noticed how empty it felt. He knew six boys lived there, a whole family did, but there was no trace of visible affection. His hold on Baekhyun’s hand tightened.

Suddenly, a bark echoed in the mansion and both of them turned their heads to the noise.

« Mongryeong! » the small dog barked again in response. « Hey puppy, how are you doing?  »

The image of Baekhyun crouching down to reach the animal was so sweet and Chanyeol had to contain himself. The boy was patting the dog’s head, when he noticed something hanged on his neck, tied with a silky, white ribbon. It was a piece of paper and Baekhyun took it in his hands, unfolding it, before reading it out loud.

« _Good Afternoon, Hyung, it’s Kyungsoo. You may have noticed that there’s no one home. Our father wanted us to leave with him, toward the South. He said he knows a famous art dealer there and he wanted to introduce us to the artistic affairs system. He wants me, Jongin and Sehun to follow his steps_ » at those words, Baekhyun’s eyes darkened. « _He asked for you too, but I knew you wouldn't have agreed. I convinced him to leave you there.  Junmyeon-hyung and Minseok-hyung are both at the Front. They said it’s nothing serious. We’ll come back in three days. I hope you won't feel lonely. Have a good sleep, Hyung. See you soon._ » while reading about his brothers, the boy’s smile showed, softening his features.

« Was it your younger brother, Kyungsoo? »

« Yeah » he smiled again, lovingly looking at the piece of paper, now holding the dog in his arms. « He always knows what I’d do. I should be the one protecting him, but he always acts first »

« I’m sure you do the same for him or else he wouldn't be that attached to you » Chanyeol said, making Baekhyun smile happily, as if he never realized it before.

« He’s my little brother and we grew up together. It feels natural to do everything I can for him »

« I’m sure it's the same for him » he said and before speaking again, Chanyeol held his free hand « And…for _me_ too »

Baekhyun looked at him with longing eyes, sighing happily, and their stares locked for a moment. It was all there, written in that stare, while their hands were still intertwined. For a second, their faces started to get closer and closer, their eyes almost shutting down, when Mongryeong barked again, breaking the trance.

« L-let me lend you some clothes, we’re both drenched. Follow me » Baekhyun was stuttering with his words, a faint blush coloring his cheeks but there was also an undeniable, little smile plastered on his lips. Chanyeol was in the same state, so he just nodded, following Baekhyun from behind, while the other boy was still carrying and hugging his puppy.

Chanyeol walked with his head up, admiring all the pieces of art displayed on the walls. The whole house looked like a museum, deprived of the heat of a family, stone cold. The painter felt himself shivering in front of all that emptiness, missing his own, little home he shared with Jongdae and Yixing. It had nothing materialistically valuable, but the love was there, expressed by the colorful decorations Chanyeol painted on the walls with the first box of colors he bought on his own, after selling one of his paintings to one of Yixing’s friends. A wave of sadness enveloped him, thinking about a little Baekhyun running down those icy corridors, searching for his father’s love but being deprived of it. He didn't even know them, but Chanyeol thanked Kyungsoo and his other brothers for staying with Baekhyun, making his days filled of the love he longed for.

« I hope that my clothes will fit your gigantic figure. We’re all pretty small in our family, except for the twins, Sehun and Jongin. I don't even know how but they're almost as tall as you and they're only 16. Sometimes I'm afraid they’ll step on us or Mongryeong » Baekhyun spoke again, still leading the way toward his bedroom, but turning his head to Chanyeol, while caressing Mongryeong’s small body. His eyes were always so warm whenever he talked about his brothers, contrasting so much with the cold mansion, shining of a peculiar kind of light. Chanyeol could read all the love overflowing from that gentle stare, sometimes lost in the memories. It was evident how attached he was to them, even if, sometimes, his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness or regret.

« You love them a lot, don't you? »

Baekhyun looked at his feet, still walking, gently smiling. « I do. What troubles me is that I'm afraid of not being a good brother. I’ve never been someone who shows his affection but after that first process…the part of me that died made me almost numb to feelings. I still felt love but it was even more difficult to show it. I don't even know if I ever I hugged my brothers if it wasn't for them doing it in the first place »

His eyes were now cloudy, almost grey, matching the walls that surrounded them. He stopped in the middle of the corridor, while Mongryeong turned his little head and looked at his owner with a sad stare that looked so much like Baekhyun’s.

« I felt like they weren't able to understand what I felt, so I egoistically created a wall around me, leaving them out. When I realized how wrong I was, it was too late. Maybe they wouldn't have understood me, but I’m sure they would have helped me. I still remember those times Jongin and Sehun wanted to play with me but I just closed the door of my room on their faces. They were just kids, they had no fault. Kyungsoo, Junmyeon and Minseok too. I’m aware of their affection, I’d just want to be able to show them that I love them too »

Chanyeol smiled to the boy, affectionately fixing a strand of his hair and removing it from his eyes.

« I’m sure they know and I’m sure that they love you just as much »

Baekhyun was looking at him with that familiar stare, a hint of smile coloring his lips and making his cheeks even more round. Chanyeol’s hands reached him and held his face, puffing those rosy cheeks and making him look like a chubby fish. Baekhyun was confused but Chanyeol just laughed at the scene, while Mongryeong licked his arm, like he was approving him being so close to his loved owner.

« Stop sadness for today, just smile. I like it when you smile » at his words, they both blushed.

« You’re drenching my floor. Use those long legs and walk, now » Chanyeol’s hands were still on his cheeks and Baekhyun looked so funny while talking. He could’t help but laugh again.

« Yes, Sir! »

Chanyeol’s hands left Baekhyun’s face and they reached his bedroom, just as huge. Except, there was a difference. It looked full, _lived._ Chanyeol could see Baekhyun everywhere. There were colorful blankets and curtains, embroidered in gold, little flower pots lying on the window sill, daisies, tulips and roses, geographical maps hanged on the walls. There was also a little, wooden desk, covered in musical scores, all scattered on the surface, near a bottle of ink and a pen. Baekhyun told him how he used to write music whenever the dark thoughts came back, rushing in his head, a storm of thick clouds enveloping his heart. Music was the way Baekhyun spoke, just like art was for Chanyeol. When words were missing, they had their own way to let the world hear them.

Baekhyun let Mongryeong go and reached his closet, searching for something that would fit Chanyeol, while the little dog was still near his feet, trying to gain his owner’s attention with his paws. The boy’s eyebrows were furrowed, still rummaging through his clothes, determined.

_So cute._

When he found what he was looking for, he happily smiled, showing a white shirt and a black cloak to Chanyeol. They looked slightly bigger than Baekhyun’s clothes but just as expensive. He looked at Chanyeol and then threw the clothes to him.

« They should fit you but I can't do anything for your trousers, my legs are too short. You can keep them »

« What? » Chanyeol was surprised. « I can't accept them, Baekhyun. They must cost as much as my whole house »

Baekhyun smiled, getting nearer and putting his hands on Chanyeol’s wet shirt, aiming at the buttons. He started unfastening them, trying to look as calm as possible, but his hands were as hesitant as ever, moving unsurely and slightly trembling. Baekhyun proceeded, exposing a bit of Chanyeol’s chest, when he realized his action and stepped back, coughing. Chanyeol felt a force pulling him toward Baekhyun again, missing the heat the other’s body emanated, needing to feel that weird sensation in his chest at the proximity. They were both attracted to the other, like two compatible magnets, lost in a kind of feeling they didn't know. Baekhyun’s insides were burning with that same flame he felt devouring his body whenever Chanyeol was near. He didn't know what happened, he acted without even realizing, in a sort of trance, lost in the familiarity the scene was drenched in. His heart was beating fast while he looked at Chanyeol gently smiling. He was unbuttoning his shirt, a flush adorning his cheeks and his chest exposed. He was toned, probably from all the climbing he did, his skin glistening with the water. Baekhyun stared for a moment, aware of the other’s eyes on him, and suddenly faced a different direction, unappropriated and weird thoughts clouding his mind. He didn't know how being attracted to someone felt like. For the first time, Baekhyun felt that heavy weight on his stomach, while a wave of heat was devouring his face and chest. It was new, destabilizing, unfamiliar, but it all felt so right.

« C-come on, put the shirt on and let’s eat something » Baekhyun stuttered, trying not to look at Chanyeol putting the shirt on. _His_ shirt. « A-and I was serious when I said you could keep it. It’s a gift »

He looked at Chanyeol blushing and the invisible strength came back again, pulling him closer and closer, needing to feel the heat of the other’s body on his skin. He resisted.

« T-then thank you, Baekhyun » as Chanyeol spoke, Baekhyun started to walk, leading the way toward the kitchen.

As they walked down the corridors, silence filled the air around them for a moment, before the heat on their cheeks vanished, leaving only comfort behind. They started running, bouncing against each other from time to time, pushing the other while reaching the kitchen. They looked like kids playing, unbothered by the world around them and the rain pouring outside, coloring the dark mansion with their joyful laughs. They spent the whole evening eating what Baekhyun prepared, gently refusing Cècile’s offer of cooking for them. Baekhyun said he wanted to do it himself, for his friend, and Chanyeol felt a little special at those words. The painter was afraid that even the servility would have looked at him with judging eyes, seeing him as a poor boy in the wrong place. But with the maid’s loving stare and Baekhyun’s clothes on, he forgot about his dirty hair and wounded face. Baekhyun’s smell filled his nose and everything felt so familiar. They talked, played again, dirtied each other’s noses with food, ate and felt free. They were immersed in the happiness they themselves created, knowing they didn't need anything else but each other. When their dinner was completely consumed, they looked outside, noticing how the pouring rain just left its place to a shining moon. The night was serene, peaceful, an almost blue light covering the trees outside. Baekhyun didn't say anything and just took Chanyeol’s hand, dragging him like he did before and taking him to the gardens, where a starry sky welcomed them. The grass and the plants were shining under the moonlight, dotted by small drops that looked as bright as diamonds. Baekhyun took his cloak, positioning it on the grass and sitting on it, before patting the spot near him, wanting Chanyeol to sit down.

As Chanyeol did what the other asked, Baekhyun let his back reach the ground, his head facing the dark sky. The painter followed, his arms touching Baekhyun’s, while his fingers tentatively reached for the other’s, before holding his hand. They both smiled.

« The sky looks much more beautiful after it rains » Baekhyun spoke softly.

« This sounds like a metaphor for life » Chanyeol laughed, glancing at Baekhyun, who did just the same.

« You’re right, but it's true » then he raised his free arm, pointing to the starry surface above their heads. He was indicating a weird agglomerate of stars, one that Chanyeol never noticed before. « Look! It looks like a kid running »

« A kid running? I think it looks like a frog »

« It’s clearly a kid running, Chanyeol »

« I still think it's a frog »

« You have too much fantasy »

« Funny coming from you »

They both laughed, lulled by the chilly wind. Baekhyun pointed at the sky again.

« That one is obviously a snake » he said again.

« How am I the one with too much fantasy? »

It was so peaceful, lying on the cold grass like that, doing nothing but being kids again for just a moment, forgetting everything but the happiness radiating from their bodies. They chuckled softly, looking at each other before their laughter ceased and their eyes were fixed on the sky again.

« What do you think stands after the sky? » Chanyeol suddenly asked.

« Religious people says that there’s the Heavens after that, Dante wrote it all. But I’m not sure if I believe in that » Baekhyun answered, still looking at the starry roof. « I mean, if there’s a Heaven there must be a God that rules on it, right? I don't think God really exists. If he did, the world would be less scary and painful »

The other breathed loudly, closing his eyes for a second. « I don’t think God exists. I stopped believing in him after my parents died. But there must be something, they must be somewhere, right? »

Baekhyun smiled, his hand holding Chanyeol’s tightly. « Yeah. They’re somewhere. Maybe in the sky, maybe after that, or in the middle. Maybe they’re two of those stars and they're shining just for you, to remind you that they're watching over you »

The painter turned his head, welcomed by the sight of Baekhyun’s face fixed on his, a sweet smile on his lips, eyes warm. Chanyeol smiled at the view, his heart at peace. « I hope they are »

Baekhyun looked at the sky again, taking his free hand near his mouth, while he started screaming at whatever was over them. « Hello Chanyeol’s parents! I’m Baekhyun, your son’s friend! Thank you for bringing him to this world and making me able to meet him in this life! I promise you I’ll protect him on your behalf! » and then he laughed, creating that beautiful sound he always made, making Chanyeol’s heart race. Now that he promised it to Chanyeol’s parents, Baekhyun was even more determined. « Do you think they heard me? »

The other smiled even wider, gently caressing Baekhyun’s skin with his thumb. « I’m sure they did »

« Why don't you say something to them too? »

Chanyeol’s smile faltered, leaving a painful but determined expression behind. « Should I? »

« Yes! »

The painter turned his head to the stars, choosing two of them and naming them as his parents. He looked at their light, shining quietly. « Hello, mom and dad » he coughed. « It’s me, Chanyeol, your son. How are you doing up there? I hope you’re fine and dressed warmly. I’m doing fine, even if I miss you, but I don't feel so lonely anymore, because Baekhyun is here now! »

Baekhyun smiled warmly.

« I’m a painter now, like dad. Are you happy, dad? I followed your steps » Chanyeol’s eyes were starting to water, the light of those two stars expanding because of the tears. Baekhyun shifted near him and hesitantly turned to his side, hiding his face in Chanyeol’s neck and pressing his body against the other’s chest, while his arm hugged his waist. Chanyeol could feel how insecure he was, even slightly trembling. « It’s okay! I-I’m fine. Remember that I’ll always l-love you. I don't know where you are right now, but if you’re really up there then keep on watching me. I’ll make you proud. I promise you »

Baekhyun looked at him and caressed the side of his face, wiping away the few tears that started to run down.

_You’ll never feel lonely anymore._

_I’m here._

_I’ll make you happy._

_I’ll protect you._

_Until my last breath._

« Do you want to go inside now? We should sleep » Baekhyun’s voice was so careful and soft, caressing his skin just like how his hand did. Chanyeol wiped one of the tears with his wrist, sniffling.

« Go, I’ll follow you soon. I just have to say one more thing to them. Can I do it by myself?  »

Baekhyun smiled, standing up and leaving Chanyeol’s body while throwing one more look to the sky. « Sure. I’ll wait for you over there. Take your time »

And then he left, leaving his smell on Chanyeol’s nose, while his heart lost a beat. It was so weird, that odd feeling, moving in his stomach, making his heart feel like it was beating for the first time. He stood there, looking at Baekhyun walking, wrapped in his cloak, with the sky watching over him. What was clouded before suddenly found its answers, leaving the sun free to shine. The painter looked at the sky again, a few tears still stuck in his eyes, but a sure smile was plastered on his lips. He fixed his gaze on those two stars, hiding his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

« Hey, dad. Do you remember what you told me about love? » a pause. « I think I understood it all »

And with that, the sky smiled.

 

❀

 

Soon, the night got deeper, the moon being the only light shining on the quiet mansion. Everything was covered by a blue veil and even Mongryeong’s fur was illuminated by it, while his small frame snored on the carpet near his owner’s bed. Some owls were singing in the distance, accompanied by the sound of the wind passing through the trees in the garden and entering in the room by the slightly opened window, making the curtains dance.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun were both lying on the same bed, kept warm by a thin blanket that smelled so much like the latter.

With dried tears still visible on his cheeks, Chanyeol fell asleep, lulled by Baekhyun’s presence. Their heads were both lying on the soft pillow, facing each other, but Baekhyun’s eyes were wide open, free to admire the only view that made his heart beat so crazily. In that moment, listening to the melody of his and the other’s heartbeat, the boy found himself thinking about everything that happened since the first time they met. Baekhyun’s arms slowly started to move, reaching the sleeping boy’s face and then lying on his cheek. His thumb was shaking, so hesitant when Chanyeol’s skin touched his, but it slowly started to move, caressing the other. Baekhyun wondered if Chanyeol knew how beautiful he looked in his eyes, made of the utmost simplicity, even the deep, red bruises adorning his face like beauty marks. He often stopped to look at his ears, so pointed that they seemed to be stolen from a legendary fictional elf, but they were so _Chanyeol_ that Baekhyun could’t help but love them. Some would have said that it was the moon shining that made him look so angelic, but Baekhyun swore that he saw him like that during every hour of the day. There were so many things that made Chanyeol so special in his eyes and Baekhyun sometimes couldn't help but think about all of them.

For a moment, he had been scared, scared of that new destabilizing feeling, scared of things running so fast, scared of his mind acting so weirdly whenever the painter was near. But then, with Chanyeol shining on every one of his days, Baekhyun found his peace, the one he searched for so long. His weren't nightmares anymore, but dreams. He didn't wake up with suffocated screams in his throat, the sound of burning shouts in his head, the feeling of the world collapsing around him, because everything was suddenly bright, full, alive. It was fire, but made of a kind of flame that wasn't terrifying anymore. It wasn't parching, destroying, paralyzing. It was warm, creative, full of everything he needed to fly. Baekhyun still felt caged, but the chains that tied him to his prison slowly disappeared.

During that night, Baekhyun understood that he felt something deeper than thankfulness for Chanyeol.

It was still there, the need to thank the sky for the gift they granted him, but it multiplied and transformed, giving birth to something new, something he would have never expected. He read about it in his books, but it always sounded so foreign.

However, when Chanyeol came, he finally found the link.

He didn't know if he could call it _love_.

Maybe he was too young, maybe it was too soon, maybe it was too terrifying to call that feeling by his name, but Baekhyun knew that he wanted to hold Chanyeol for the rest of his life. He cured him, he made him find the way again, he made him understand that he was worth more than what people thought when he was slowly starting to lose his hope. Despite being broken by the same scars, Chanyeol took care of Baekhyun and he was determined to do the same.

Even if it all was so new, lying with the other’s breath caressing his nose felt like the most natural of things. It was so right, to listen to the painter soft noises when he called his name. It was right, to reach for his hand and hold it, while the other’s fingers unconsciously wrapped around his, softly smiling while being caught by his dreams. It was right, to have Chanyeol’s body so near, under the same blanket, being able to touch his hair and remove them from his eyes, while looking at him sleeping so peacefully.

It was so right, to feel so right.

During that night, the sky started to cry its painful screams and Chanyeol too.

When the first thunder teared up the starry roof, Chanyeol suddenly woke up, shouting, terrified by that single noise. Rain started to fall and the roars amplified in the quiet mansion. Chanyeol was crying, trembling, praying for them to stop. Baekhyun stood there for a moment, tears blocked in his eyes, staring at him. The Chanyeol that looked so strong whenever he needed help, the boy that seemed afraid of nothing to everyone’s eyes, that same painter that had always been able to protect Baekhyun was losing against the memories. Chanyeol couldn't even open his eyes, his heart beating so fast that even the other could hear it. The seeming invincible soldier was falling.

In that moment, Baekhyun couldn't even think.

So he did the only thing that felt just as right.

He hugged him, hiding the boy’s face in his chest, holding him with all the strength he still had.

_I’m here._

« I’m here, Chanyeol »

_You’re not alone anymore._

« I’m here »

_I will never let you go._

« I’m here »

_I’ll protect you._

« I’ll protect you »

Chanyeol’s screams slowly stopped, but his body was still as rigid as a stone, trembling like he had been hit by one of those thunders. His forehead was soaked, small drops running down his face, mixing with his tears. He was gasping for air, totally breathless, his heart beating so fast that Baekhyun was afraid he would have exploded soon. Baekhyun kept his hold strong, taking his hand to the other’s hair and gently starting to caress his hair, just like the painter’s father did.

One stroke, two stroke, three strokes.

He kept doing it for minutes and Chanyeol’s breathing started to calm down a bit. He was trying to say something but it sounded like a knot was choking his throat.

« B-Baekyun? »

« Yes, Chanyeol. I’m here, I’m here »

Baekhyun was shaking as well, so scared of what just happened, terrified by the sight of that side of Chanyeol he still didn't know. It was destabilizing how such a simple thing could hit so mortally even the strongest of warriors. It was like Chanyeol and the sky had been connected since the moment it took his parents’ souls away, caging them in his blue cloak, making them two of its collection of stars. Whenever the sky was wounded, Chanyeol felt it too.

His weakness, his Achilles’s heel.

« Y-you’re here » his voice was weak, just like his body, shaken by those furious sobs.

« I’m here, Chanyeol » Baekhyun was sure. « _and I’m never letting you go_ »

 

That night, Baekhyun understood that he had something to fight for.

It wasn’t just his fight, but a battle that two had to win.

That night, Baekhyun understood that they had the strength to overcome their enemies.

Together, hand in hand, they were invincible.

 

❀

 

When the morning came, Chanyeol left Baekhyun’s house, wrapped in the black cloak the boy gifted him and with a gentle smile as a goodbye. He understood that his expression was hiding his worry, longingly staring at Chanyeol’s face, almost afraid to let him go. During his walk back home, with the sun finally shining on his head, the painter thought. The small drops that hanged on the houses’ roofs around him were slowly starting to fall and Chanyeol found himself thinking about the night before, deeply, with a funny and odd sensation in his stomach. It felt empty, but at the same time there was something tickling the walls of his insides, reaching his heart, that was producing a different kind of beat: a heavy, deeper one.

When the first thunder wounded the sky, Chanyeol was back. Back on that day, back under the soldiers’ guns, back to those excruciating screams. He saw his parents dying, he saw everything around him dying. The world burning down to ashes, the heat of that furious fire reaching his skin and his feet running, running for his life, but he had no destination because nothing was left except death. Chanyeol felt it all again, his heart combusting, his lungs deprived of oxygen and contracting, his throat blocked, strangled, gasping for air. He was falling, harder and harder, in what felt like an infinite, scorching ravine.

But something made its way across the darkness.

A light, passing though the thick wall of fog. It was powerful, almost blinding, but warm. It was a light that came in the form of two arms, holding him and protecting him, arresting his fall. Suddenly, the images around him changed. He was at home, the one he was born in, surrounded by the smell of his father’s oil colours, with the sound of his mother’s singing that filled the air. The flames around him disappeared, the screams morphed into the sound of the summer wind passing through the window and his parents were next to him. He could feel the thunders but they were far away, scratching a distant sky, and the only thing that was left was the feeling of finally being home. Chanyeol could feel his father’s arms around him but in a second he realised that it was a different person holding him, shielding his body from the storm. Those arms were thinner, weaker, but at the same time secure, protective. They were shaking and Chanyeol could feel the other’s sweat on his skin, mixing with his own fear, becoming one through the hold.

_Baekhyun?_

Chanyeol raised his head with the weak strength he had left and saw his face. His parents were still next to him, smiling at the two, while Baekhyun was hugging his body and gently accompanied the painter's head to his chest. Chanyeol could feel the other’s hand on his hair, gently caressing them, with utmost cure, just like his father did.

 

_“I’m here, Chanyeol”._

_“I’ll protect you”._

 

His words still echoed in Chanyeol’s head, breaking through the walls of his mind, caressing and healing some of his scars. He remembered seeing his parents leaving in that sort of dream but they were smiling at him, at them, throwing one, last look at Baekhyun. Chanyeol knew nothing about that was real, but he felt as if his parents were leaving him in the other’s protective arms, knowing that there was finally someone able to cure their son’s wounded heart.

During his walk, Chanyeol recollected his feelings, thinking about their night together after his crisis, spent in each other’s arms, with Baekhyun’s head pressed on his chest and hugging him. Chanyeol could feel his hold the whole night until the morning, even when he woke up before the other, with the sun shining through the thin curtains. He stayed there, admiring the other’s face, lost in his dreams, heavily breathing. Chanyeol touched the boy’s face, caressing the flushed cheek with his thumb and softly smiling, silently thanking him for being a part of his life. When his hand reached Baekhyun’s lips, he stopped for a moment, deeply absorbed by the image of the two rosy petals that were slightly opened. He hesitantly touched them, feeling his chest tightening and his mind started to wonder. How would it feel to press them on his own? Chanyeol’s mind was eager to know but, even if the temptation was hard and an invisible strength was pushing him toward the other, he would have never taken advantage of the other’s sleeping state. So he just stood there, one finger pressed on Baekhyun’s lips, while his heart beat crazily in his chest, thumping and thumping, devouring him. The view was so beautiful that Chanyeol couldn’t help but forget every starry sky he ever painted, because that peculiar, single daffodil that danced lonely in the wind was more breathtaking than every star.

When he reached his home with his mind still lost, what welcomed him was a not-so-peculiar kind of sight.

Jongdae was screaming in the middle of the room.

« _Park Chanyeol!_ »

Kim Jongdae had never been able to speak at a normal volume, being used to sing those really high notes. He was loud in everything he did, from speaking to whining, from rejoicing to crying, from moving to sleeping, there was no way of not being aware of his presence. With the walls being thin, Chanyeol could hear his voice even when he was asleep, mumbling nonsense while dreaming, and he honestly thought he deserved some kind of trophy for that.

« Where the _hell_ have you been all night?! » he was still shouting.

« U-uhm, out? » Jongdae knew about Baekhyun but Chanyeol didn't know if he was able to open up his heart and talk about the feelings he was trying to control.

« Out? _Out?!_ » the boy slammed his palm on the table, while an unfazed Chanyeol moved to reach his room. « Me and Yixing tried to find you for hours! »

« It isn't the first night I spent away from home »

« But you always left a note! »

« I-it wasn't planned, it just happened and no one already invented some kind of machine that would have made me able to warn you instantly » Chanyeol was moving in his tiny studio, collecting the things he needed and absentmindedly answering to Jongdae’s whining.

« We were still worried. We thought that the army might have caught you while selling your  paintings in the upper sides » Chanyeol could sense the worry in his words and his heart hurt a bit.

Since the damned day and before Baekhyun came, Jongdae and Yixing had always been the only constant point in his life. When he had nothing and no one, they appeared and gave him a meaning. They helped him find a reason to keep going on, to say strong, to live. The moments they met are still engraved in his mind, along with all his most precious memories, breaking through the walls of thick, dark fog that haunts him during his worst days.

Just like the night before, the day he met Jongdae, the sky was crying.

It had been four days since everything Chanyeol had burned down to ashes and he was in the middle of the street, wet, miserable, hungry, seated on the drenched ground and waiting for the death to come. The rain was pouring hard on his head and his body was so weak, eaten by cramps, wounds and deep cuts throbbing with blood. He was a living soul trapped in a dead body, waiting to decompose and finally live a world where nothing was left.

But a voice reached him.

In his dying state, he could still hear it. Strong, filled with emotion, bursting through the sound of the pouring rain. The voice was singing, the end of every verse cracked by a sob, but it was clear, bright and fierce, standing in the middle of a dead city. Chanyeol opened his eyes slowly, even the slightest movement hurting his body, and he saw a boy, standing on his feet, singing to the sky like everything he had came back to it. Around him stood the ruins of what was there, dead bodies on the ground, emptied buildings and burned belongings, but he kept on singing, determined and strong.

He was chanting the Revolution.

Chanyeol knew the song. It was the same his parents used to sing months before their death.

A single tear rolled down Chanyeol’s wounded cheek, filled by the memories and a lulling feeling in his chest. He smiled, thinking about his parents and the beautiful life they shared, while he listened to the boy.

When the song ended, the silence was filled with sobs. The boy was crying too but he was desperately trying to keep it all in, drying his face with the sleeves of his shirt. He looked at the sky, leaving his stare linger there for a few minutes, before closing his eyes, letting the rain fall on his face.

A few seconds after, their eyes met.

It was a stare full of understanding. They were both just two boys who lost everything they had under the fire, with no one left behind.

In that single stare, a bond was formed.

Starting from that day, Jongdae cured Chanyeol, stealing medical supplies and food from the streets. He was fast, clever, determined. He wasn't going to lose his friend too.

In a few weeks, Chanyeol got better. He started to walk, his cuts healed and the world started to turn at the right speed again. Jongdae taught him the art of being a thief and in a span of two months they both became able, strolling around the upper Paris to steal food from the merchants. It was only them two against the world, companions rebuilding their life from zero, but despite all the strength they had, at the end of the day, they were still two children with no one to guide them.

It was then that Yixing came.

The upper part of Paris was completely guarded by the army because of an event organized by the king and there was no way they could be able to freely scatter around the streets without being caught. They ate nothing in four days and doing even the smallest of things was getting harder and harder. They stomaches contracted, deprived of nourishment, and the poor streets of the old district offered them nothing but dust. Both of them thought about dying right there, lying on the street with their back on the thin walls of someone’s house, together just like how they started their journey.

When everything seemed lost, an angel was sent to them.

Yixing arrived shining bright under the sun, the warm light surrounding him, making him look like an otherworldly creature in the eyes of the two suffering children. He stretched his hands, giving them two whole loaf of bread while smiling warmly. With the smell of warm bread under their noses, they both thought about their parents, thanking them, as if they felt so sure that it was them who sent that angel.

Starting from that moment, Yixing, the tiny young man who owned a small pharmacy, took them under his wing and protected them with everything he had. Many times, Yixing didn't even have food for himself but he always made sure to provide them enough to keep their stomaches full, even if it meant eating nothing for days. He gave them a room in the small house above the pharmacy, gifting them all the love he had in his heart. When they grew up, they learnt that Yixing had a child and a woman he loved but they both died under the guns. They had nothing to do with the Revolution, they were no artist, just poor people living of love, but during those days the soldiers didn't care. They just killed, with no real reason, and decided that Yixing’s family’s lives weren't worthy enough. During deep winter nights, Yixing would tell them about his child and how much they reminded him of him. His name was Yuxue. He was only five years old and all his father dreamed about was to look at him grow up, to guide him toward a brighter future. But someone else decided that he had no right to do so and just made him disappear. When he found Chanyeol and Jongdae, Yixing thought about his lost love and child, promising himself that he would have protected them just how he hadn't been able to do in his past. They became a family, united by no blood,  but linked by the love they felt for one another.

« Come on, Jongdae. Don't be too hard on him » Yixing appeared from the door holding two loads of bread and handing them to the two boys. « I’m sure Chanyeol had a valid reason for being out the whole night »

« Why are you acting so calm and cool right now? You were screaming yesterday. If I was Chanyeol I would have pissed in my pants » Jongdae said, munching on his food.

« I’m sorry » Chanyeol repeated, with the image of an angry Yixing in his head. He really was scary in those kind of situations.

« You better be, kid. Thank the stars I’m calm now and you aren't forgiven. We got really scared yesterday night » Yixing’s tone was stern, traces of fury still audible in his voice. He slowly walked toward Chanyeol, nearing the covered canvas that hid Baekhyun’s unfinished portrait. Instinctively, the painter moved in front of the painting. « So you’re hiding something, mh? Let’s put it like this: I will forgive you if you tell us where you spent the night. If you don't, the pharmacy’s late shifts are yours »

« _Uuh_ , Hyung, you’re such a snake » Jongdae chuckled, leaning on the table and holding his chin with both his fists. « I like it »

Chanyeol hesitated, slightly moving in front of his painting. They knew, but what he told them wasn't the complete truth. He told them about the lonely flower near the Seine, his solitaire dance along with the wind, how his peculiar beauty shined of a different light, but what was hidden in Chanyeol’s heart was unknown to anyone else. He had doubts, looking at their smug expressions observing him, but they were still his family. Someday, his feelings would have grown even more and his heart would have exploded, overflowing with the most powerful emotions. He needed to speak, to take it all out.

« Fine » Chanyeol spoke, taking the fabric that covered the painting with his fingers and finally removing it, making his work see the light. Jongdae and Yixing’s faces changed completely, morphing into a surprised and amazed expression, deeply captured by the painting in front of them. It was still in progress, colors missing, just the figure drawn with graphite. Chanyeol moved toward his bed, crouching down and taking out was was hidden under it: his papers, filled with sketches of only Baekhyun’s figure and the flowers surrounding him. He threw them on the table, under the others’ eyes.

« Is this…? » Jongdae spoke, taking one of the drawings in his hand.

« Yeah, it’s him » a small, delicate smile appeared on Chanyeol’s lips and Yixing observed him, a knowing look on his face. « _My Daffodil_ »

« So he’s the reason why you didn't come back home? » Yixing was smiling, gently browsing through the drawings. Chanyeol blushed.

« Y-yeah, b-but we didn't do anything of _that_ sort if that’s what your thinking » he stuttered. « I observed him for a year, drawing only him, like all the magic I saw in the sky and nature completely disappeared. Months ago I decided to be brave, so I went to him, to my muse, and gave him a daffodil. From that moment, we see each other every day in the same place »

Jongdae and Yixing were both looking at him, eyes filled with a longing feeling of happiness.

« He asked me to paint him. He wants a portrait that doesn't look like a fake, heroic representation of himself. He wants the truth and he found it in my drawings. When we spend time together, I observe him and then I come back here, recollect my memories of him and it all seems so simple » his voice was soft, emphasized by the precious smile in his lips. « Yesterday it started raining so he took me to his house. I ended up spending the night with him »

The next image Chanyeol had in his mind was Baekhyun’s arms holding his shaking body, air teared up by his screams, his tears mixing with drops of sweat falling from his forehead. He could still feel Baekhyun’s hand caressing his hair, making his fear dissipate into nothing while the thunders left the sky just as quickly.

« He…he protected me from the storm » at his words, the other two winced. They knew. « When he was holding me, in the middle of my crisis, I saw my parents, like I was in a dream. They were next to me but a moment after they were leaving. I felt like they were telling me that I was safe with him. When the morning came, I realized that…what I feel for Baekhyun isn't just admiration »

Yixing and Jongdae’s expressions softened.

« I might have finally understood what my father always told me about love » Chanyeol smiled even wider, hiding his blushing cheeks with his hand.

Yixing stood up, moving toward the other and putting one of his hands on his shoulder, holding it with affection. He thought about the poor child he saved from the streets and looked at what he became. His tall, handsome Chanyeol was shining with the light of his first love.

« Aren't you…scared? » Jongdae broke the moment. « You’re both supporters of the Revolution and you already told me that he only read books from the Forbidden Index. Most of all, you’re both men, Chanyeol. If the Government knew…they’d kill you »

Chanyeol’s heart sank and even the other’s hand on his shoulder felt heavy. His fist clenched, but a flash of Baekhyun’s smiling appeared in his mind, shining bright.

« I’d rather die than live without freedom » his tone was severe. He turned to the painting, observing Baekhyun’s figure on the canvas and gently caressing it with his hand. « They can't control me, us. I’m not afraid of death and I’d fight for him if I have to. I’m not letting him go »

Jongdae and Yixing’s expressions felt like knives on his skin, mirroring their worrying feelings. Silence filled the house for a moment. Words weren't needed.

Chanyeol covered his painting, feeling suffocated by the air around him. His feet started to walk before he could even think, aiming for the door with only one place in mind. He didn't care if it was too early for Baekhyun to be there, because he needed to get out of there, away from those heavy stares and thoughts.

« I need to go » he was already near the door and he could feel the others’ eyes on his back. He didn't turn around. « If I don't come back for the night, you know where I am »

One foot outside and he stopped at Yixing’s voice calling him.

One, single pleading, holding thousand of unspoken words.

« Chanyeol » he said. « be careful »

After that, only the sound of the door closing.

 

❀

 

When Baekhyun arrived, that late afternoon, Chanyeol was already there. The red sun was finally shining on the cold Paris, no sign of the wind shaking the wet leaves, the last drops silently falling to the ground. Everything around them was quiet, the sound of Baekhyun’s feet on the wet grass being the only audible noise. Baekhyun looked in front of him, where Chanyeol’s figure stood, wrapped in the black cloak he gave him the night before. He conceded himself a moment, staring at the view in front of him: Chanyeol was beautiful, his face shining just like the night before, the kind, warm light of a setting sun illuminating his every trait. He was looking into the distance, fixed on the nothing in front of him, sitting on one of the fallen columns: a king in the middle of his reign. Baekhyun started to walk toward him, his heart jumping in his chest. When he was near enough he moved his head and rapidly placed it in front of the other’s. Chanyeol’s eyes widened at the surprise and Baekhyun chuckled lightly.

« Did I scare you, you big baby? »

Chanyeol laughed softly but Baekhyun noticed something different in his eyes. They were clouded, marked by trouble and sadness, almost empty. A second after, Chanyeol reached for his hand and held it, looking at it deeply, caressing his skin with his thumb and following the veins. His gaze was fixed, a dark veil covering his usual bright eyes. Baekhyun seated next to him, their hands still intertwined.

« Did something happen? » Baekhyun asked, but the other’s eyes never left his hand.

« Just a little argument with Jongdae and Yixing. I’m fine » Chanyeol finally looked at him. His lips were smiling but it didn't reach his eyes.

« I don't like how sadness looks on you » the smaller spoke, studying the other’s gaze that was slowly falling on his hand again.

« It’s nothing to worry about »

Baekhyun wasn't convinced.

« Then catch me »

« What? »

« Catch me »

« Wait, wha- »

Chanyeol couldn't finish, because Baekhyun started running away from him, toward the Seine, his red cloak flowing in the air. He was laughing, illuminated by the red sun, under the sky that was slowly giving up on his blue color, reaching all those different shades of warm tones. Baekhyun’s laugh filled the air, shining in all his beauty, like a flower dancing in the wind.

« Catch me, Chanyeol! »

His voice resonated through the silence and Chanyeol stood up, his feet moving on his own, running toward the other. The dark thoughts that were choking his heart slowly dissipated, like grey clouds dying after a storm, letting the world be filled by Baekhyun’s voice and his figure running through the trees. They run in circle, laughing until their hearts threatened to burst out of their chest in any moment.

Chanyeol didn't know if it was for his long legs or because Baekhyun actually slowed down to be caught, but he reached the other a few minutes later, capturing his waist with his arms. They were still laughing, sharing their happiness with the singing birds around them, and when Baekhyun tried to escape the other’s hold, they both tripped. Chanyeol felt his back hitting the ground and Baekhyun rapidly followed, falling on his chest. Their laughs ceased but their smiles were as warm as that red sky.

« See? Happiness looks better on you »

Baekhyun smiled and Chanyeol was entranced, just like the first time he saw him near the Seine. His beautiful, golden daffodil that danced in the wind to a song only he could hear. Chanyeol was looking at him with a devoted stare, dreaming eyes shining with the sun, while his hand passed through his hair. Jongdae’s words echoed in his head, making his heart ache. After those months they spent together, Chanyeol couldn't imagine a life where Baekhyun wasn't by his side.

« Can this last forever? » Chanyeol’s voice was weak, his hand still caressing the other’s hair in that odd position.

« What? »

« Us » his tone was serious, words weakly coming out of his mouth. « Is this all going to disappear too? Us, those trees, the church’s ruins. Does it have to come to an end or can we make it last forever? »

Baekhyun was looking at him, softly smiling, when one of his hands reached Chanyeol’s cheek and cupped it.

« I don't know what the future holds for us. We could make promises and hope for this to last forever, but who knows what will happen tomorrow? » he caressed Chanyeol’s skin, a fond expression adorning his features. « The secret is living. Living for the present, forgetting about the future. This is how you make things last forever. We’re here, living it now and it all just disappears if you're worrying about what will happen rather than what is actually happening »

Chanyeol softly chuckled, lulled by Baekhyun’s scent and heat. « You always have an answer for everything, don't you? »

« We can say that I’m someone who thinks a lot »

Chanyeol smiled and then slowly lifted his back up, Baekhyun following his movement, and they ended up being seated again, in the middle of their own world. Baekhyun stood on Chanyeol’s lap, his cheeks slightly red, and the other shifted even nearer, hiding his face on the smaller’s neck. His arms followed fast, reaching Baekhyun’s waist and holding him even closer. They could feel each other’s hearts beating, their breaths mixing together, sharing an intimacy they never experienced before. In that moment, their bodies and hearts felt intertwined, linked together, becoming one.

« Please, don't ever leave me » Chanyeol’s voice was suffocated by Baekhyun’s skin.

« I won't » Baekhyun spoke, voice strong.

They spent minutes and minutes like that, no words shared, because they were unnecessary. The sky turned darker, until its stars appeared on the dark roof. That same blue light was hovering over the quiet place, the moon being the only source of light, shining on the two, huddled bodies among the trees. Birds ceased their singing, cicadas taking their place and filling the air with their music. Baekhyun broke the hold, turning his head to the serene Seine, while Chanyeol left a long kiss on his cheek, still hugging his waist.

« I didn't even realize the sun had already set » Baekhyun said and Chanyeol just placed his head on the crook of the other’s neck again, too captured by the lulling feeling their proximity created.

« Yeah »

Baekhyun closed his eyes, feeling the chilly wind blowing on his skin and letting the sound of the Seine reach his ears.

« Don’t you think the Seine looks magical, at night? »

Chanyeol left a new kiss, but on his neck instead. He didn't know what was happening, his head wasn't thinking anymore, his action guided by the odd sensation in his stomach, needing to feel the other against his skin. Baekhyun slightly winched but didn't move.

« Do you want to do something crazy? » Baekhyun smiled while Chanyeol placed another kiss on his neck. He felt a shiver running down his back and his heart was beating faster than it ever did. He closed his eyes for a second.

« Like what? » Chanyeol’s lips moved against his skin.

« Like a bath in the Seine » another kiss. « Right now »

Chanyeol’s lips left his neck and their faces both turned to look at each other at the same time. They stood there for a moment, captured by the other’s every trait, before they both smiled, their noses only a inch apart.

« Let’s do it »

And in a second, they both stood up, Chanyeol taking Baekhyun’s hand and dragging him along. They run again, feeling the wind caressing their faces, hands linked, toward the Seine. After the blanket of trees stood the river, its waves gently crashing along the shores, filling the night along with the two boys’ laughs. With the stars watching, they reached the riverside, dipping their feet in the cold water. Soon after, they started removing their clothes, eyes never leaving the other, engraving that magical moment in their lifelong memories. The moon was smiling at them when Chanyeol took Baekhyun’s hands in his again and walked, their bodies deeper and deeper into the gentle water.

When the waves reached their stomach they realized the intimacy of that moment, the deep blue surface being the only veil that separated them from each other. They felt the other’s glare on their skin, slowly burning, bursting through every wall, nullifying every remaining trace of distance that separated them.

They played, splashing each other and letting out a laugh that came directly from their hearts. Unconsciously, their bodies got closer and closer, their skin only a few inches apart. Their laughs ceased and what was left was only their stares, piercing through all the barriers. Baekhyun felt Chanyeol’s eyes on every bit of his skin, his eyes never leaving the other, until the taller placed a hand on his harm, letting it fall on his fingers under the water. Baekhyun saw Chanyeol coming impossibly closer, feeling the traces of his wet skin on his body, his heart bursting and resonating in his throat. His stomach was caught in a storm, furious waves contrasting with the calm Seine, his mind blank, when he unconsciously let his hand linger on Chanyeol’s cheek again.

Under that moonlight, Baekhyun called his feelings by their name for the first time.

« You’re beautiful » Chanyeol said.

_Love._

« Just like a golden daffodil dancing in the wind »

With the moon smiling at them, Baekhyun canceled the last bit of distance that separated them and kissed Chanyeol.

It was the Revolution.

Their lips moved in unison, while the sound of a thousands cannons filled their insides. It was there, the feeling of something new being born under that silver moonlight, promised to the stars that surrounded them, forever written in the quiet waters of the Seine. Everything around them suddenly lost its meaning, their lips locked being the only thing they were able to feel. Their breaths became one, mixing and mixing. Chanyeol’s hands were on Baekhyun’s back, caressing his naked and shivering skin, while Baekhyun had his fingers locked in the other’s hair, stroking the wet, dark locks. They breathed, savored and felt each other, writing in that moment a forever they didn't hold. Their chest moved against the other, Chanyeol’s hands going impossibly down, covered by the water. Caught by the moment, Baekhyun wrapped his naked legs around Chanyeol’s waist, the other’s breath blowing on his face, unlocking their lips only for a second.

They went on and on, with the waves caressing and sooting their naked skin, stopping only to breathe. They could feel each other’s smile on their lips, their hands venturing along their bodies. It was devastating, that odd sensation morphing into flames, devouring their insides with that newborn fire.

When minutes and minutes passed, they stopped, forehead on forehead, listening to the sound of each other’s breath mixing with the waves. The moon was shining over them as Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol’s eyes, caressing his face.

_Love._

« This » whispered Baekhyun. « This is the kind of forever I want to transform into eternity »

Chanyeol kissed his flower again and again, before the overflowing feelings in his chest had the best on him. He unlocked their lips, accompanying Baekhyun’s head to his chest and engulfing his body in his arms. Jongdae’s words were resonating in his mind, so he just held him stronger than ever, afraid that anything could come and tear his treasure away from him.

« Aren’t you scared? » Chanyeol spoke, but his voice was dying his throat, tears slowly forming in his eyes. Baekhyun didn't move. « If someone knew, they’d kill us »

The smaller raised his head and kissed his lips again, closing his eyes for a moment and savoring what he already longed for. « I’m not afraid of death if it means that I can be with you even for only this moment » another kiss, his hand still on the other’s face. « Once, a painter taught me the importance of freedom and I'm determined to never give it up »

Chanyeol was drawing circles on the other’s skin, tears slowly falling on Baekhyun’s hand. « I’ll protect you even if it means losing my own life. I’ll fight for you until the last breath I have been granted »

Baekhyun kissed him again. « And I’ll do the same. Until my last breath »

 

In that moment, under the silver moonlight, Chanyeol and Baekhyun engraved their promise in the stars.

And with that, one, last bird sang again.

  
 

  
❀ ❀ ❀  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 

###  **_ACT III: The Song of Revolution_ **

 

After Summer, Autumn came again.

And then another Winter, another Spring, and the circle repeated itself.

But this time, it was different.

A year after, there were no lifeless leaves, no empty trees, no lonely nights. There were the warm tones engulfing Paris, the chilly wind caressing the streets, the music of a new, first love playing in the air.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun lived their summer like it was a dream.

They spent their days hidden by the trees, near the Seine, lying on the grass or playing with the water. Hours and hours passed like that, kissing while lying on the green ground or naked in the river, lips locked together, hands adventuring on their bodies, hearts caught in the storm of first love. There were times when Chanyeol would sit on one of the fallen columns and Baekhyun would lay his head on the other’s lap, eyes closed, while the painter read him one of his books and caressed his hair, stealing kisses from his lips. Almost every time, the book would end up forgotten on the ground, while Baekhyun stole Chanyeol’s lips and they would just stay like that, savoring each other’s taste, lost in that piercing feeling in their stomach.

During those days, Chanyeol kept painting Baekhyun.

The other still couldn't see anything, but they would pass entire days at Chanyeol’s house, Baekhyun posing for his lover. Chanyeol’s heart always ascended to the stars whenever he would lay his eyes on his beautiful flower, so dazzling and bright, illuminated by the faint sunlight coming from the small window. There was something magical that caught his mind during those times: his physical eyes were forgotten, because he was painting what his heart saw instead. After those long hours, when the night started to replace the light sky, Chanyeol would drop his brushes and colors in order to reach the other, gently but still shyly wrapping his arms around Baekhyun’s waist and kissing his nape, neck or cheek, the desire too strong to resist. Both of them were caught up in a net of new feelings and needs, an uncontrollable hunger for the other, their bodies automatically reaching for their lover’s skin. It was almost frightening, how heavy that feeling was, but they couldn't help it when the passion of first love was blooming.

While the summer unfolded, Chanyeol and Baekhyun started to experience new things.

With their love blossoming like flowers in Spring, their sexual curiosity started to grow. They hadn't been able to take the big step during that Summer, but their carnal desires and the need to be as close as possible got more passionate each day. When Baekhyun’s family was away because of his father’s journeys and the mansion was emptier than ever, he would cross the upper side of Paris, reaching the downtown, toward Chanyeol’s house, where a pair of protective and loving arms was always ready to welcome him. In the silence of the small studio Chanyeol created, their lips ended up being locked to each other like magnets. As they moved, the smell and taste of the other pervading their minds, their hands would wander. During their time together, Chanyeol understood the pleasure Baekhyun felt whenever his fingers graced his lower bottom, caressing or squeezing it, just like he did with his thighs. The painter also discovered how divine Baekhyun’s moans could get when he kissed his jaw or lower neck, a wave of heat devouring his insides every time. On the other side, Baekhyun became aware of Chanyeol’s breathing increasing its speed whenever his lips touched his lobe and how the painter’s hold on his body would tighten, trying to conceal the raging need that was enveloping his entire being. Baekhyun especially loved to tangle his hands in Chanyeol’s hair, gently tugging them whenever their kisses became more and more passionate.

They started with a wave of insecurity invading their minds, their hands slightly trembling in fear, trying to suppress that raging flame that was burning every fiber of their skin, eyes too shy to look at each other. But as time passed, it all ceased and they found a fundamental source of security in the intimacy only they shared. When they were completely sure to be alone in the house, their touches would wander even further, reaching each other’s manhood and loving how the other would melt in pleasure under their hands. There was no veil, no barrier, no shame. They were naked in front of each other, deprived of every shield, because they knew how deep their trust and love was.

One of those nights, Baekhyun and Chanyeol shared the latter’s bed.

Its size was small, so they ended up being closer than they had ever been. Chanyeol observed entranced how Baekhyun slowly removed his shirt, dropping it on the wooden floor, his body only covered by Chanyeol’s sheets. His lover’s face was slightly colored, eyes too shy to meet his. The painter raised his back from the bed’s surface, reaching the other, his gaze burning like actual fire on Baekhyun’s skin. Their stares met when their faces were only millimeters apart, the point of both of their noses slightly touching. With the sound of the rain pouring outside, Chanyeol felt the gates of paradise opening right in front of him. His daffodil, golden in all his light, was breathtaking, shining in that peculiar beauty that made his heart fall for the first time. He gently reached for his face with one hand, cupping his cheek, while the other started wandering on Baekhyun’s naked skin, so softly, treasuring it in all his parts. Baekhyun’s eyes were fixed on his, glowing with love, his breath blowing on his face. A second after, their lips found each other again. It was a sweet kiss, slow, even insecure. For a moment, they didn't even move, lost in that proximity, needing to savor the other’s taste like it was the first time. With the stars smiling at them, they kept going on for minutes, after their lungs started to long for air. Chanyeol caressed Baekhyun’s face one more time, receiving a delicate smile, before dragging his lover down. They both lied on the bed, with their limbs and hearts entangled. Baekhyun shifted even near, holding Chanyeol to his chest and hiding his nose in the other’s air, his hands on his face while he gently brushed his thumb against his lover’s ear. Chanyeol wrapped his arms on Baekhyun’s waist, kissing his chest.

And like that, they fell asleep.

No nightmares came for them during that night, nor the followings.

They never came again.

 

❀  
 

 

When the winter came, the Seine froze.

Its calm water transformed into a surface of ice, making it look like glass. The temperature dropped, enveloping Paris in a timeless, white veil, while the first snowflakes started to grace the cold city.

Baekhyun was lovingly looking at his dog playing with the snow in the back of the mansion, smiling at him while his brother Kyungsoo stood next to him, eyes to the sky and the little flakes falling on his nose.

During those months, Baekhyun told Kyungsoo how he fell in love for the first time and the younger looked at him change.

Kyungsoo noticed how he didn’t flinch anymore at every one of his touches or how his smiles always looked even warmer than before. When the autumn came, during one of those mornings they used to spend together, Baekhyun was laughing out loud at something Kyungsoo said and, a moment after, the younger brother felt the other’s arms around his body, holding him tightly. In all the memories they shared together, his brother never hugged him. Baekhyun always expressed his love in many different ways, but none of them involved physical contacts. Kyungsoo looked at him as the autumn unfolded, shining in a different kind of light, every day brighter. He observed him playing with Sehun and Jongin, gently patting their heads at every chance he got. Every morning, Baekhyun would visit his three younger brothers’ rooms, waking them up with a gentle kiss on their cheeks. He would comb their hair, help them get dressed and even prepare breakfast along with Cécile, softly starting a conversation with her. Baekhyun left the house every afternoon but he never forgot to give his brothers’ a gentle hug before walking toward the door.

He never came back for the night.

Unlike what he used to do before, Kyungsoo didn’t see his brother coming back home before the sunset.

When Baekhyun confessed him the reason, Kyungsoo understood.

As he fell even deeper for Jongin, Kyungsoo looked at his brother doing the same. He didn’t meet him yet but, every night, the younger brother would thank Chanyeol, smiling at the moon as his own lover wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

That snowy day, Kyungsoo observed Baekhyun’s smile, so bright and serene, and his heart floated in pure happiness.

His brother was healing.

« Hyung, why don’t you take Chanyeol to the iced Seine? » Kyungsoo spoke, waking Baekhyun up from his trance. His brother flinched, his cheeks coloured with a faint pink glow.

« Should I? »

« Yeah, you could teach him how to skate on the ice! You can lend him Jongin’s blades »

Baekhyun thought for a moment. « Do you think he’d like it? »

« I’m sure about it »

Kyungsoo smiled when his brother’s face lit up, his eyes sparkling. With one, warm hug, Baekhyun left.

_I’m glad to have you back._

_I missed you, Hyung._

And his heart found its peace, too.   

 

❀

 

« I’ve got a surprise for you, today »

The sun was shining on that quiet afternoon and Chanyeol and Baekhyun were walking down the streets of Paris, toward their secret place. They were side by side, shoulders bumping into the other’s and their hands too, secretly sharing a touch between their fingers.

« A surprise? »

« Have you ever skated on ice before? » and with that, Baekhyun took one of the blades out from the sack he was carrying on his back.

« Never. I used to go seeing the iced Seine with my parents, but blades were too expensive for us » Chanyeol said, his heart hurting while his memories unfolded. Baekhyun looked around him before reaching for the other’s hand, holding it tightly and hiding it under his cloak a minute after.

« I bet you’re gonna fall the second you step on the ice, with those long limbs of yours » he giggled. « But that’s why I’m here »

« Will you teach me? »

« Of course. I have to say that I’m a very good ice skater »

« With a teacher like this— » a rapid kiss on the cheek. « —I’d be crazy if I refuse »

Baekhyun laughed and Chanyeol thought that, never in his life, he ever heard such a beautiful symphony.

« Calm down, you flirty giant » his smile was so soft on his lips. « My lessons aren't free »

« What’s the price I have to pay? » he chuckled.

« Mmh » Baekhyun moved his hand under his chin, thinking for a second. « A kiss »

Chanyeol laughed and his hand searched for Baekhyun’s fingers hidden by the cloak, grabbing them and dragging his lover into the nearest alley. He gently pushed the other against the wall and supported himself with one hand, pressed near Baekhyun’s ear. Their faces only inches apart and their eyes locked, enchanted, the world around them disappearing.

Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol’s lips with a smug smile, whispering. « Are you going to kiss me, or not? »

In a matter of seconds, Chanyeol’s palm found the back of Baekhyun’s nape, his thumb on his ear, and their lips crashed against each other. In the silence of the dark alley, their kiss sealed a new promise, the sky as the only witness, hidden by a world that couldn't understand a love that was so different. Baekhyun’s hands reached Chanyeol’s hair, moving through the dark locks, savoring the feeling of his lover’s breath caressing his face. Their lips moved in a synchronized choreography, while subtle moans escaped from time to time, both of them lost in pleasure. With his heart shaken by thunders, Chanyeol moved his hands to the back of Baekhyun’s thighs, caressing the clothed skin, while the other let a chocked breath escape his occupied mouth. Baekhyun stopped the kiss, adventuring on Chanyeol’s neck and leaving burning, little kisses on the other’s skin, reaching his ear. As Baekhyun clung on Chanyeol’s shoulders, the taller answered to the sinful kisses with a few, low moans, as his hands curled over his lover’s hip bones. It was passionate, heated, warming up their bodies shaken by the cold wind.

« Is this, _ah_ , enough for the first lesson? » Chanyeol panted in between the sensual kisses, mouth hanging open as Baekhyun sucked on his lower lip one last time, finally letting the painter breath properly.

« Mmh, maybe » Baekhyun said, his hands hovering over Chanyeol’s chest. « But I might ask you to pay some interests during our lesson »

With that, Baekhyun walked away almost sinfully, his steps elegant but flirty, throwing Chanyeol one last glance. Looking at him, the painter felt a wave of heat in the lower part of his body, heavily breathing to calm his raging heart and desires.

They both reached the main street again, their bodies a little more distant. The two boys walked for a few more minutes, lulled by each other’s proximity, when the blanket of trees appeared. Finally sure to be alone, Baekhyun grabbed Chanyeol’s hand and dragged him till the ruins, covered by white snowflakes.

« Come on, Chanyeol! »

Baekhyun was running, one hand holding Chanyeol’s one and the other carrying the sack. When they arrived near the Seine, Baekhyun stopped, dropping the bag on the ground and chirping happily at the view in front of him.

« Put your blades on, it’s going to be so fun! »

As Chanyeol laughed in pure glee and seated on the ground to wear the blades, Baekhyun crouched down and reached for the sack, taking out what was inside. He put his skates on and when Chanyeol was struggling to tie the strings, the smaller got near. He left one, soft kiss on the other’s nose and proceeded to fasten his blades.

« You big baby » he gave him one more kiss but on his reddened cheek instead, offering Chanyeol his hands to step up.

Once they reached the shore, Baekhyun held Chanyeol’s hand again, gifting him a big, radiant smile. « Never let go of my hand and always lay on me, fine? »

Chanyeol nodded and as Baekhyun stepped on the ice, perfectly balancing himself, the other advanced but as soon as his left foot touched the frozen surface his balance disappeared. With a laugh, Baekhyun held him tight, saving him from falling.

« I told you this was totally going to happen! » Baekhyun was laughing so joyfully and freely that Chanyeol’s heart just couldn't stop beating along that beautiful music.

The smaller kept his hands on his lover’s elbows, holding them tightly to prevent him from falling again. He was looking at him with the sweetest smile plastered on his lips, but Chanyeol was too preoccupied of stopping his legs from shaking like leaves to notice it.

« How are you able to stand on your feet so gracefully? It’s impossible, I feel like a fish on the sand! »

« Years and years of practice! »

The air around them was chilly while the sun started to color the sky of those usual warm tones, making the ice light up in a red halo. Lost in their own world, Chanyeol and Baekhyun kept on laughing, while the smaller literally held the other up, skating in circle.

« Come on, Chanyeol! Straighten your legs! »

« How do I straighten my legs?! »

« You’re gonna fall if you don't balance your body! »

« I don't even feel my legs anymore! »

« That’s because you’re not straightening them! »

Their cheerful laughs and words filled the air around them, filling the silence of that late afternoon.

« Baekhyun, hold me! I’m gonna fall! »

A minute after, Chanyeol fell, his back hitting the icy surface, and Baekhyun followed, ending up on his chest, just like that summer day, when everything changed and the world took a different turn. When their laughs ceased and only their frozen breaths hanged in the air, Baekhyun cupped Chanyeol’s cheek, delicately stroking it with his thumb, lost in his lover’s eyes. There was something so special in hearing the other’s heart beating so loudly against their chest, mirroring their own, and suddenly they felt naked again. They came back to that day, when the moon was silently shining above them and the water stood as the only barrier in between their bodies. It was all written in their eyes, in their smiling lips, in their hands treasuring each other’s body. Baekhyun felt that sensation of complete nudity in front of his lover’s eyes, he was able to perceive it on his skin. Under Chanyeol’s gaze, that armor he built to shield himself from the rest of the world transformed into a void. He knew how to see through it, how to cross it and how to completely destroy it, seeing what was inside, that Baekhyun the world didn't know about. With Chanyeol’s gaze on his, Baekhyun felt his heart rejoicing in bliss, expanding, cramming his whole ribcage, overflowing with everything that filled his body whenever Chanyeol was near. His fire embraced him, shielding his wounded body from everything that stood outside, warming him up and burning his skin with flames that couldn't hurt. In that moment, his mind retraced everything they shared, every second they spent together, from the first time Chanyeol gifted him that flower he treasured until its last second.

When he kissed his lover’s lips one more time, his heart overflowed and a part of all those raging feelings came out without a warning.

« _I love you_ »

And with that, Chanyeol’s feelings exploded.

The song of that Revolution only his heart knew about ensued, filling the air around him. In that moment, Chanyeol understood that love was one of those wars that had to be fought under the sunlight. Soldier against soldier, mortar against mortar, cannon against cannon. It was a battle that knew no dark’s meanderings, no hideouts, because when love came he couldn't do anything but get shoot by that scarlet bullet. The fear of losing it was a trench warfare, made of no quiet moments, the ones filled with the sounds coming from the battleground,  unsettling the utmost silence. It was one of those battles that would have forced him to hide and fight behind the fragile barriers of that shelter he tried to build around himself. But when his love declared war against the fear, then, Chanyeol couldn't help but fight, fight while the light shined over him, fight for that one person that gave peace to his tormented heart.

With the cold wind blowing and Baekhyun’s chest beating on his, Chanyeol answered.

« _I love you too_ »

And suddenly, it all felt so right.   

 

❀

 

Chanyeol left Baekhyun in a small alley near his house, holding both his hands for a moment before reaching his ear and whispering a secret “ _I love you”._ The kiss he was gifted with after that was sweet, Baekhyun’s lips so heavenly pressed on his. Then, Baekhyun let go of his hands and put the hood of his red cloak on his head, leaving Chanyeol with one last stare, before walking toward his house. Chanyeol stood there until the red figure completely disappeared behind the door, a worshipping smile plastered on his face, captured even by the way Baekhyun walked. When he couldn't see him anymore, the painter turned his head to the sky, happiness radiating from his body like sun rays. On his way back, Chanyeol jumped around the street with the most joyful expression coloring his face and his heart dancing at the thought of what happened just a few hours before that moment. The walk toward his home was short and during those carefree moments Chanyeol couldn’t help but think about Baekhyun. Baekhyun’s hands, Baekhyun’s lips, Baekhyun’s skin, Baekhyun’s kisses, Baekhyun’s touches. His mind was filled by the image of the man he fell in love with, his shining daffodil, making his heart swim in waves and waves of the purest joy.

_I love you._

Baekhyun’s voice resonated in his head and it felt so right to hear those important words coming from his mouth.

As he reached his house, Chanyeol opened the door, a smile still so bright on his lips, but before he could even call Jongdae and Yixing’s names to tell them that he was back, he noticed that his living room was unusually crowded.

« _Yifan?_ »

Seated at the table along with Yixing, Jongdae and two other people he knew nothing about, stood Wu Yifan, in all his impressive stature. The first time he met him was after Yixing took them under his wings and his eyes always left a deep impression on Chanyeol. They were cold, piercing, drenched in an endless determinate and strong light. He was probably the best friend Yixing had and, during the first months they spent in the small house, Yifan granted them decent food and made sure they were dressed warmly enough for the cold winter. Then, he completely disappeared. Yixing told them he was an art dealer, working in the black market, and was forced to travel around the country in order to pursue his illegal affairs. Years and years passed and as Chanyeol and Jongdae grew into men, they never saw Yifan again.

« Hi, Chanyeol-ah. I’m glad to see how healthy you look now » his voice was deep and fatherly, just as he remembered it to be. « You and Jongdae grew up so much. You’re two handsome men, now »

Chanyeol couldn't understand and a lot of questions piled up in his head. Why was he there? Why did he come back after so many years?

« Why did you come back? I mean, p-please don't misunderstand, it's not that I'm not happy to see you again, but— I don't understand? »

« This is it, Chanyeol » Jongdae stood up from his chair, his expression completely pervaded by excitement. « A new Revolution is coming! »

Chanyeol froze.

« Yifan organized it all! That’s the real reason that forced him to leave Paris, to gather an army that was strong enough to fight! » Jongdae was now in front of Chanyeol, holding his elbows. His eyes were sparkling, lost in a feeling Chanyeol never saw on his best friend before. The pupils were almost dilated with madness and his smile looked too wide. « It’s everything we’ve always be waiting for, Chanyeol. We can finally revenge our parents, our art and everyone else who died because of those bastards! »

The painter was completely motionless as every fiber of his body refused to move. He shifted his gaze toward Yixing, whose eyes were pained, almost sympathetic.

Chanyeol remembered how he and Jongdae used to talk about the dawn of a new Revolution when they were kids, seated under the big tree at the back of the pharmacy. They would lay on the grass, with their backs pressed on the trunk, sharing their hopes of revenge.

_« One day we’ll make them pay, right Jongdae-ah? »_

_« Yes. We’ll revenge our parents and take our art back »_

Their dreams were drenched in childhood’s naivety, hopes aiming for a future that was just how they wanted it to be. Chanyeol remembered how determinate the will in his heart was, how he would whisper to the sky and tell his parents how, one day, he would have avenged their death.

But it was before Baekhyun came.

« A-a revolt? » Chanyeol stuttered.

« Yes, Chanyeol » Jongdae was enthusiast. « Just how we dreamed it to be when we were children. It’s really happening »

Chanyeol couldn't even formulate an answer, his gaze lost between all the people in the room. The two unknown boys looked out of place, fidgeting on their chairs, while Yifan showed that familiar determinate light in his eyes. Yixing, instead, was staring at him, his expression telling him that he knew. He knew everything that was going on in Chanyeol’s head.

« It was my project since you were just kids. I couldn't tell anything nor to you two or Yixing, everything was still too uncertain and dangerous, but I managed to propagandize our aims to the right people and now we have a whole army of rioters that are ready to fight to gain our freedom back » Yifan smiled. « These are Zitao and Han. They lost their parents just like you two did »

The painter barely nodded at them.

« Aren't you happy, Chanyeol? » the look in Jongdae’s eyes almost scared him. « We’ve been waiting for this moment since we were twelve! »

But Chanyeol just couldn't.

He couldn't, because everything his mind thought about was _his_ Baekhyun.

« I—I… » he couldn't even talk. « I—I can't »

Jongdae’s smile disappeared. « Was does it mean that _you can't_ , Chanyeol? That's all we’ve been dreaming for! »

_Baekhyun._

« I can’t » his voice was shaking. « I—I can't leave Baekhyun, Jongdae »

The look in his best friends eyes was torn between betrayal, sadness and anger, but he just couldn't help it. The idea of leaving Baekhyun alone was destroying his head. Fighting would have meant the risk of _death_ or, at best, running away from the country if the Government was strong enough to annihilate the army Yifan created. If his freedom was the only thing keeping him alive before, when Baekhyun came, his life seemed to have found a new meaning too.

« You always told me that your freedom was your priority, that you would have fought for it even if it meant _dying_ and now you want to just throw it all away for some guy you met?! »

« Baekhyun isn't just _some guy_ , Jongdae! » Chanyeol’s anger was raging. « I’m in love with him! »

« _Love?_ » he chuckled. « You don't even know what love is, Chanyeol! You’re a coward! »

« _Stop this!_ » Yixing stood up, fists hitting the wooden table and making the two boys’ shouts stop. « We’re not here to hear you two bickering like kids. This is an important matter and if you believe in freedom you should let him decide whether he wants to do it or not, Jongdae »

The smaller closed his mouth and addressed his head to the floor, his fists clenching until his knuckles became white.

Chanyeol took his head into his hands, when tears started to slowly fill his eyes. His brain was turning around, shoot by thoughts as sharp as arrows, hurting crazily. He thought about Baekhyun but suddenly the faces of his parents appeared, making his knees weak. It was a storm, thunders tearing up his insides, as every certainty he ever had slowly crushed down into pieces. He knew that art had to be avenged but what could he do when everything his mind always drifted to Baekhyun? The once determined sureness he used to feel had completely disappeared, morphing into burning doubts, insecurities and fears.

He couldn't bare to live without Baekhyun, but conducting an existence deprived of freedom was destroying.

Years and years spent dreaming about a new Revolution just couldn't disappear like that.

« It’s your choice, Chanyeol » Yixing lied one hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder. « But remember to never restrain yourself for someone else, not even if that person is the love of your life »

Those words hit him, but the painter just didn't know what do to.

 

_“Once, a painter taught me the importance of freedom and I'm determined to never give it up”._

 

Baekhyun’s voice resonated in his head like the most powerful of all symphonies. How would have Baekhyun felt if he knew he was the reason behind Chanyeol’s decision of giving up on everything he always fought for?

« Whatever choice you’ll take, make sure to never regret it»

How would have Chanyeol been able to face Baekhyun knowing what a coward he had been? He now had the chance to fight against what destroyed Baekhyun in the past, what took even his own freedom away and transformed him into a lifeless soul.

 

_« I’ll protect you even if it means losing my own life. I’ll fight for you until the last breath I have been granted with »_

_« And I’ll do the same. Until my last breath »_

 

He promised him.

 

« When is the battle going to take place?» at Chanyeol’s words, everyone in the room raised his head.

« Two months from now » Yifan answered.

 

In that moment, Chanyeol took his decision.

He would have fought.

Fought for his parents, for his art, for his country, _for Baekhyun._

In the hope of a better tomorrow, that day, Chanyeol accepted his destiny.

 

He would have fought.

He would have won.   

 

❀

 

That day, Baekhyun was on revs. He was walking down the streets, happily skipping toward Chanyeol’s house with a big sac on his back, again, and knowing the road by heart.

It was the 27th of November.

The day of Chanyeol’s 21st birthday.

Baekhyun wanted his lover to feel special, to understand how dear he was to his heart. After all the time they spent together, Baekhyun still felt guilty for the lack of originality he put in the present he gifted the other for the first birthday they spent together. It was a whole new box of oil colors, full of every tone Chanyeol would have ever needed, but the smaller still felt like it wasn't enough. So, that day, he poured all his effort into organizing the perfect surprise.

When he reached Chanyeol’s house and knocked at the door, what welcomed him wasn't the serene smile of his lover, nor his protective arms stretched toward him. Who opened the door was Jongdae, but his expression looked stern, almost as if he didn't want to see Baekhyun stand right there. When he met the guy for the first time, Baekhyun noticed how joyful he was: a grin plastered on his lips, jokes always ready and the ability to put everyone at ease. Whenever he saw him, Jongdae would always welcome Baekhyun with a heartfelt pat on the shoulder and a warm smile, but that day he almost couldn't recognize him.

« H-hello, Jongdae » Baekhyun was stammering.

« _Baekhyun_ » no pat on the shoulder, no warm smile, no playful sweetness in his voice.

« I-is Chanyeol here? »

« Yeah » his cold tone was making Baekhyun’s skin shiver in uneasiness. « He’s in the other room »

Jongdae moved, letting Baekhyun enter, but he could still feel those judging eyes on his back. With one last look, the other boy left the room, aiming for the door before violently closing it. Alone, Baekhyun took a moment to recompose himself and then reached the other chamber, where Chanyeol’s studio was.

« _Chanyeol-ie?_ » he sang, before the loud sound of things falling on the wooden floor echoed in the whole house. As he stood in front of the entrance, Baekhyun saw Chanyeol in front of a canvas, desperately trying to cover it with his whole body, and tons of utensils scattered at his feet.

« W-w-what are you doing here? » Chanyeol was panicking and rapidly covered the canvas with a red fabric before Baekhyun could see what he was hiding.

The smaller got near, pressing his body to Chanyeol’s chest and gently smiling, while his arms reached for the other’s neck, circling it.

« It’s the birthday of someone I really love, today, isn't it? » he spoke softly as he kissed the painter’s nose. Chanyeol, in response, completely melted.

« Can you believe that I forgot about my own birthday? »

« I can believe it, yes » another kiss. « But I’m here to remind it to you »

A series of earth-shaking lip-locks followed, their chests almost hurting because of the speed their hearts were running at. Baekhyun even deepened them, entering Chanyeol’s mouth with his tongue and sensually playing with his ear. Chanyeol’s hands wandered along every curve of Baekhyun’s body, worshipping it like a masterpiece, before his lips drifted to his lover’s collarbone, dotting it with wet kisses. They moved around the room when the kiss heated up and the smaller’s lower back ended up on the nearest wooden table, letting Chanyeol free to hover him even more.

When the kisses stopped, both of them were panting.

« Happy birthday, _my love_ » he said, the stars shining in his eyes as he gently swept one strand of dark hair from the other’s forehead.

« Was that my birthday present? » their faces were still impossibly close, so Chanyeol took advantage of it as pressed another sweet kiss on Baekhyun’s lips. « Because I think it’s the best I’ve ever received »

« Even though I know that my kisses are actually something— » he chuckled. « —No, that's not the real present. I have another surprise for you, today  »

« Again? » he answered. « What did I do to deserve so many surprises, lately? »

« Well, we can say that your existence is already a pretty decent reason » they both laughed softly. « And today is your birthday, you deserve it »

« So what is it? » Chanyeol hugged Baekhyun's neck with his arm, making the other lay on his shoulder, staring at him deeply.

The smaller kissed him on the point of his nose, again. « Have you ever been to the theatre? »

Chanyeol stopped. « Baekhyun, are you telling me…? »

« Yeah, I’m telling you that I bought us two tickets for the Théâtre du Châtelet and also provided you new clothes to wear » the smile plastered on Baekhyun’s face was completely enamored. « A pianist I really admire will hold a concert in Paris tonight, with a whole orchestra! She’s a woman, her name is Clara Schumann. Her works are real masterpieces »

As Chanyeol listened to Baekhyun’s adoring words and stared into his gleaming eyes, the painter’s heart divided into contradicting feelings. A part of it was lulled by the other’s voice and presence, melting, while his lover’s smell engulfed him. The other part, instead, was dying. Losing its color, drifting into black. As he gently stroked his cheek, Chanyeol thought about everything that happened just a few hours before.

_How am I gonna live without you?_

In the back of his mind, he could still hear Baekhyun’s voice going on and on about his favorite pianist, but he was somewhere else, lost in his lover’s whole being. How would have he lived without Baekhyun’s hands on his? Without his kisses on the nose? Without his arms around his neck? Without his lips? Without his laugh? His eye smile whenever he read, his focused stare when he played the piano, his weird tone when he talked to Mongryeong, his habit of sleeping with one leg out of the blanket and one arm on Chanyeol’s face? How would have he lived without everything that Baekhyun was? Was it possible to breath without air surrounding him?

_How, Baekhyun? How?_

Everything was impregnated with his taste, his perfume, his laugh. Everywhere, he could see his eyes, shining brighter than a galaxy of stars. Everything had the savor of their kisses, of their hands intertwined like they were one, of that secret that was too big for two, young boys in love, of those quiet words whispered in each other’s ears, of those _I love you’s_ promised to the Seine.

_If I have to leave, then I’ll live to see you again._

_Even if you forget about me, even if you don't want to see me, even if you fell in love with someone else._

_I’ll find you._

_And if you want me too, then we’ll start it all over again._

 

« Chanyeol-ie are you okay? » Baekhyun stopped talking.

« I love you » it just slipped. He couldn’t contain both his feelings and tears.

« Oh? I love you too » a kiss on the nose. « But why so suddenly? »

« I just…felt the need to say it »

Baekhyun kissed Chanyeol again and his heart exploded. When the other tried to end it, the painter pressed their lips together again.

« We should get dressed now. I hope you like blue » Baekhyun said, leaving the other’s mouth, even if Chanyeol was hesitant.

 

As they both removed their clothes, Chanyeol crashed his lips against Baekhyun’s again, so passionately that the other had to sit on the table in order to not fall on the floor. The painter’s kisses felt so needy against his skin, fervent, but at the same time warm, sweet, full of something Baekhyun couldn't quite place. Chanyeol was kissing him like it was the last time, hands caressing every single part of his body, as if he was imprinting it in his memories.

« I love you » Chanyeol said again. « _Don't ever forget it_ ».

 

❀

 

A lot of kisses and touches later, they were ready.

As Chanyeol stood in front of the old, chipped mirror, he almost couldn't recognize himself. His hair were perfectly brushed, styled, and a beautiful, shining attire was covering his body. The blue cloak was decorated with a silver embroidery near the edges and white, fluttering ruffles stood on his chest and on the white shirt’s sleeves.

Never in his life he wore something like that and it made him feel particularly conscious about his aspect. However, the stare Baekhyun gave him when he showed up from the other room was enough to convince him.

Chanyeol thought that he looked even more beautiful, in his red dress embroidered in gold, instead.

« What should we do about those cuts and scars? » Chanyeol touched his face, indicating all the wounds on his skin.

« Absolutely nothing » Baekhyun answered, reaching the other and hugging him from the back. « They’re so _Chanyeol_. You’re beautiful like that »

« Are you sure you won't be…ashamed of me? »

Baekhyun could see Chanyeol’s drifting to the floor. « Why would I? »

« It will probably be filled with nobles and people from the high society, almost everyone will know you. They can probably tell that I'm not one of them from miles away. If they notice that someone like me is… _a friend_ of yours your reputation will probably be damaged because of that »

« I don't want you to be one of them, Chanyeol » the painter could see Baekhyu’s determinate eyes from the mirror. « You’re just you and your position in the society doesn't define who you are. They can think whatever they want, I don't care. I’m not my father »

Chanyeol’s eyes were still at his feet, refusing to meet Baekhyun’s, while his fingers played with one of the angles of his coat.

« Listen, Chanyeol » Baekhyun moved in front of the mirror, raising the other’s face up with his hand. « You’re beautiful and you’re probably gonna be the most handsome man among them all, maybe among the whole Paris or even France, so, please, stop worrying about what the other’s might say. Don't ever let the other’s judgement get into your head. This is your day and I want you to enjoy it. Plus, I have something to tell you »

Chanyeol finally looked at him, eyes glistening with tears.

« Now, we should go » Baekhyun kissed him. « Remember to smile »

Chanyeol let the other drag him out of the door, aiming to the street, directed toward the Second Rue. When the flock of people going to the theatre in their fancy, shining clothes appeared in front of them, Baekhyun let his hand go, and Chanyeol immediately missed his heat. Everyone around them was staring at the two boys, probably wondering who was that mysterious person with the Prince. Chanyeol felt his hands sweating, a thick veil of uneasiness around him, but then Baekhyun smiled at him and everything felt suddenly right.

When they entered the gigantic structure, he could hear the people around him whispering, but everything was suddenly forgotten when he lied his eyes on the inside of the building. The circular shape of the theatre emphasized the precious decorations of the columns, painted in gold, while a crystal chandelier stood above them. The corridors were filled by paintings and Chanyeol analyzed all of them, noting the use of colors, lights, shadows and all the chromatic choices, everyone around him suddenly disappearing. Baekhyun stared at him adoringly, observing his sagging eyebrows whenever his eyes landed on a new painting.

Baekhyun guided him to their seats, in a private gallery at the second floor. Since the moment they stepped into the theatre, Baekhyun’s eyes never left Chanyeol. He looked so fascinated by everything he saw, like a child. The painter had always been like that. It was like the spirit of a young kid was hidden inside his heart, talking a language only Chanyeol could understand. He looked at the world like it was both the most amazing and terrifying of things, stopping at admiring every one of its details.

It was the magic of being a painter, the ability of seeing something the others couldn't.

When the lights started to dim, Baekhyun could feel Chanyeol’s excitement. In the dark, he took his hand and he could almost sense the other’s smile. Soon, the pianist made her entrance, moving to the center of the stage where the piano stood in all its glory, starting to play a minute after.

When music filled the air, Baekhyun felt at peace.

Everything was right, with Chanyeol’s hand intertwined in his and the heavenly music of the piano in his ears. A succession of high and low notes made Baekhyun’s skin shiver, enveloping his heart in a kind of feeling only music was able to make him feel.

As he looked at the woman’s hands gracing the piano, Baekhyun was sure.

He wanted it to be his future.

Before he met Chanyeol, Baekhyun didn't know what he desired to be in his life. He loved music, but there wasn't enough motivation in his heart to transform it into a dream. When the painter came, Baekhyun got inspired by his passion and strength, admiring how powerful his love for art was. As the months passed, Chanyeol taught Baekhyun the meaning of dreams and freedom.

He wanted to compose, to transform his life into music, to speak through it just like Chanyeol did with his paintings. If the world didn't want to listen to his voice, then they would have listened to his music.

The pianist continued, song after song, until Baekhyun’s favorite came.

 _Notturno_ had been the first composition Baekhyun ever learned.

He remembered how his six-years-old clumsy hands couldn't even reach all the keys. Junmyeon and Minseok spent hours teaching him, until the dark sky came. During those days, Baekhyun would stay up all night, trying to get every passage right, aiming to perfection. After a month, he learned the whole song and played it in front of his oldest brothers. Their expressions were still vivid in his head, warm, proud smiles gracing their lips like they never did before. He had been so proud of himself, that day.

As he listened to the song, two single tears left his eyes at the memories and Chanyeol’s hold on his hand got tighter.

« Is everything fine? » Chanyeol whispered.

« Yeah » the other answered, tears filling his eyes.

As the pianist played the last note and the crowd ensued with applauses, Baekhyun stood on his chair, drops running down his cheeks, while a wide, emotional smile graced his lips.

_This is what I want to be._

_This is what I’m gonna be._

 

❀

 

When Baekhyun and Chanyeol walked out of the theatre, among the chattering crowd, and reached the quiet street, the smaller’s eyes were still humid with tears. Stars were shining brightly above them, the light of the moon making the snow glistening in the dark. There was no one on the road that took to the secret pall of trees and they were finally free to live their love. Chanyeol tucked the other under his protective arm, hugging his waist tightly and kissing his neck repeatedly.

« Thank you for tonight » Chanyeol said, as distant owls’ sounds resonated in the air. « It was the best birthday I've ever had, even better than my 18th one, when Jongdae wrote me a song about my _dick_ starting to get older »

Baekhyun laughed softly. « He’s full of surprises, even more than me »

« Yeah, he’s really something » he said, smiling. « But, jokes apart, it was really beautiful »

« I’m glad you liked it » Baekhyun got even closer, reaching Chanyeol’s face and kissing his nose out of habit.

« You said you had to tell me something, though. What is it? »

Baekhyun looked at the sky for a moment, the starry roof reflecting in his pupils, as a serene smile spread on his lips.

« That’s what I want to do » he said. « I want to be a pianist, Chanyeol »

Baekhyun drifted his stare, looking at the painter in the eyes. The expression he had on his face was a mixture of all the feelings that were piling up in his heart. Baekhyun could read all the proudness written in that glare, with a beautiful smile adorning his lips.

« You do? »

« Yeah, because you inspired me » Baekhyun confessed, smiling at the sky. « Before you came, I didn't know who I wanted to be. I loved music, but I didn't have a dream that big. Then I met you, so full of passion, even willing to _die_ for what you loved, and…it made me think, you know? After a few months, I played _Notturno_ again, the first song I've ever learned, and I understood. I told myself that it was what I wanted to be »

Chanyeol was looking at his lover with tears in his eyes and, even if Baekhyun couldn't understand where all that emotion came from, he still wiped them out of his beautiful face.

« I guess I have to thank you for this. I decided to start taking lessons to improve even more and in a few years I hope to be ready to start my career » he stopped for a moment, gently caressing Chanyeol’s hand with his thumb. « You said you needed a muse, but you actually became mine, too. So _thank you_ , Chanyeol »

Suddenly, Baekhyun felt Chanyeol’s arms wrapping around his body, so fervently, like he was scared that someone was going to take him away. The smaller rested his head against the other’s chest, melting in the protectiveness those arms offered him, before a few little, wet tears started to fall on his head. He could feel Chanyeol’s ribcage wincing with every sob, his hold tightening even more. Baekhyun raised his head, his chin lying on Chanyeol’s chest, and looked at him with eyes full of worry.

« Hey, _my love,_ what is it? »

He tried to ask, but all Chanyeol did was hiding his face in the other’s neck, still crying. Baekhyun couldn't understand what was going on in his lover’s mind, but the need to protect him arose in his heart like a fire without control. He held him even stronger, gently caressing his nape and kissing his cheeks, his heart hurting with the same pain.

« Chanyeol-ie? »

The taller didn't move, but Baekhyun could catch a few words through the tears: _“I’m sorry”, “I love you”._ He repeated and repeated, like a mantra, whispering while his voice got suffocated by Baekhyun’s skin.

« What are you sorry for, my love? What is it? »

After a few, interminable minutes, Chanyeol’s sobs gradually stopped, but tears were still running down his face.

« T-there’s something I have to tell you » his stare was dark, off, unable to look at Baekhyun in the eyes.

« Tell me, Chanyeol-ie. What is it? » he placed one hand on the other’s face and the painter leaned on his touch for a moment.

Chanyeol breathed.

Baekhyun could almost feel it in his veins: something bad was going to happen.

And then, the painter shoot his bullet.

« There’s going to be a new revolt, Baekhyun »

Baekhyun completely froze.

« Yixing…Yixing’s childhood friend recruited an army of rebels to fight against the Laws and avenge who died during the Purge » another long breath. « And I…I decided to fight with them »

Here it was, the moment Chanyeol dreaded the most, even more than death. That look of absolute terror in Baekhyun’s eyes, almost as if he was waiting for that nightmare to end, for Chanyeol to say that it was all in his head before hugging him and taking the world to its place again.

Except, it wasn't a nightmare.

Many nights, Baekhyun would wake up from a bad dream before realising any of it was real. He was waiting to wake up that night, too.

But it didn't happen.

« I-I dreamt for this moment since the day my parents were taken away from me. I p-promised them I would have avenged them, one day, and b-bring our art back » Chanyeol was rushing his words through the tears, as his eyes were focused on the petrified figure in front of him. « But then you came, Baekhyun »

The other’s eyes got wider and painful, burning tears started to run down his face.

« You came a-and everything was suddenly right again. You m-made me happier that I've ever been and I if I could fall in love with you for the first time every single one of my days, I would » Chanyeol took his hands in his. « I had been so sure my whole life, I lived dreaming for that moment, but when you came into my life I understood that there was something more to fight for »

Chanyeol shortened the distance between them, placing his hands on Baekhyun’s face. He could feel the other’s tears running down on his fingers, the other’s eyes mirroring his own as the wet drops tore them down.

« We both know that there’s the chance of…me _dying_ during the fight and, if it all fails, I…I’ll have to leave the country » he couldn't even speak as Baekhyun winced at every word, like every one of them was a knife penetrating into his skin. « But I believe in freedom, my _flower,_ and I can't let the fear to have the best on me. I always told you that I would have fought for it even if it meant certain death and I don't want you to think that those were just lies. I’m going to fight for my parents, for what I believe in and…for _you_. If I have to die, I want to die knowing that I tried to give you and France a better future »

Chanyeol wrapped his arms around Baekhyun as his body started shaking.

« I’m so sorry, Baek— »

« _I’m going to fight with you_ »

And with that, Chanyeol’s heart stopped, letting everything fade in the snowy air. He could feel his breath getting labored and his heart slowly adventuring in his throat. His hands were a beam of nerves that snapped at every gust of cold wind, shaking. Chanyeol moved his hand on his beating heart, telling it to stop running that run out of every limit, slowly taking him to destruction. He saw the world crumbling down around him, like everything was slipping into absolute oblivion. He never thought about the possibility of Baekhyun wanting to fight and it was even more terrifying than his own death.

« N-no, B-Baekhyun, you can't! » Chanyeol was desperate.

« Why not, Chanyeol?! » Baekhyun’s voice was tore by tears. « I’m not gonna watch you risking your life without doing anything to protect you! Being the reason of your insecurities is enough »

« B-Baekhyun, I can't lose you! »

« And I can't either, Chanyeol! » his tone was getting louder. « I’m not the princess that has to be saved by her prince. They didn't take someone away from me, but they did take _something_ away from me. I want my music to express what _I_ feel, not what _they_ want me to feel »

Chanyeol’s heart was burning down. He couldn't breath.

« Baekhyun, please! »

« No, Chanyeol! » Baekhyun was almost shouting while some tears were still running down his face. « I promised you that I would have protected you until my last breath and this is what I’m going to do »

They were both panting and their words resonated in the deserted streets.

« I’m going to do it, Chanyeol, and you can’t stop me »

Looking into his eyes, the painter realised how determinate they looked. He was right, he had no rights to stop him, even if the fear of losing him was eating his insides. Chanyeol launched himself into Baekhyun’s arms, holding his body tighter than he ever did.

« I swear I’m going to do _anything_ if it means having you safe in my arms » Baekhyun said against the other’s chest.

« But what if it means leaving Paris? What about your brothers? »

Baekhyun breathed, closing his eyes to prevent more tears to fall.

« I know they’ll be fine » he said. « They have each other. I’m leaving them in good hands »

The smaller hid his face into Chanyeol’s chest again.

« We’re going to do this _together_ » he whispered.

« _Together,_ until the end»

With that, one more promise had been engraved in a new, parisian night.

And the snow started to fall.

 

❀

 

A month passed and the winter deepened, making the air even colder.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun decided to spend their days together, forgetting everything that was going to happen. Even if Baekhyun wasn't someone who liked to think about the future, he tried to imagine a forever for both of them. When they were together, there were no fears, nor wars. They were just two boys, lulled by their love, living it at their fullest.

One night, Baekhyun broke down in Chanyeol’s arms.

His voice was torn by desperate tears, his chest wincing at every sob, while hiding his face in the other’s neck. They just came back from the first meeting organized by Yifan to plan the attack, and the reality hit him like a bullet, right in the heart. In the peace of Chanyeol’s home, his shouts tore the silent night, while the painter held him so tightly and Baekhyun desperately hanged to his body. It started to happen regularly, after every reunion.

 

One month before the battle, they made love for the first time.

Their time might have ended soon and, with the sand in the hourglass decreasing grain after grain, they started to count their days. Exactly four weeks before the planned battle, the need to feel each other even nearer completely exploded.

With the desperation of a first love signed by counted days, they coalesced and became one, with the stars watching from above. It was sweet, painful, magical and frightening. Slow, deep movements united them, both lost in the feelings of having the other physically inside of them. They savored every second, with lips locked together, their breaths caressing each other’s faces and whispered _I love you’_ s through sounds of pleasure. They did it again, again and again, while treasuring each other’s bodies. They caressed every single inch of skin, imprinting it in their memories, to keep it with them forever.

After they came together, tears started running down their faces, synchronized with the same pain. They cried in each other’s arms before falling asleep, still tangled, as the time passed.

 

❀

 

« I want everyone ready before dawn, already positioned in their agreed place» Yifan’s voice stood against the silence. « We have no margin of error, with a single mistake we’re all _dead_ »

The crowd in the isolated tavern winced as a choir of signings ensued.

« This is our last meeting before the battle and I want you all to prepare yourselves properly. Memorize the plan and collect your belongings in case this whole thing fails. We’d have to leave the city as soon as possible»

Chanyeol and Baekhyun were next to Yifan, seated on the chairs around the table in the center of the local. At the man’s words, Chanyeol could feel the other’s body slightly trembling, so he held his hand under the table.

The tavern stood in the poorest suburbs, a cluster of cheap wood and ruined furniture to decorate a place that was going to collapse soon. Some paintings were hanged on the wall, all pieces saved from the burnings, contrasting so much with the poor aspect of the place. It was a popular hangout for the rebellious or who survived the massacre, hiding the first revolutionary nucleus. It was where Jongdae performed, for the people who believed in his same reality.

« The battle is in three days»

As Yifan spoke, Baekhyun froze.

_It’s coming._

He didn't regret his choice, despite the fear eating his insides like a fury, but it wasn't simple to realize that his death could have come soon. At best, he would have left the country and he didn't know if he would have ever seen his brothers again. For days, he wondered if he really wanted to risk it all, but, when he thought about all the reasons that pushed him to agree, they convinced him more and more every time. He would have fought for his love, for Chanyeol, for his own art, but also for his brothers, in the hope of giving them a better future. He thought about their dreams, wishing for them to be finally free. He thought about Kyungsoo and Jongin, praying that, one day, they would have finally been able to love each other under the sunlight.

With Chanyeol’s hand holding his, he breathed.

« We all know that some of us won't come back alive» the room was dead silent. Baekhyun could see Yixing, Han, Zitao and Jongdae wincing too. « But I want you to remember that we’re doing this for freedom. Some of us have lovers, children or families, think about them when you’ll be fighting. Fight for their future, for the France we dream of»

Chanyeol and Baekhyun looked at each other in a gaze of infinite understanding.

« When you’ll hear the first cannon, start the attack. Shoot only the soldiers or those who’ll try to attack you but don't touch the citizens. We’re here to make the monarchy bend, not to kill innocent people » with that, Yifan raised a glass of liquor in the air. « To you, my friends, to France, to the Revolution!»

The crowd ensued in cheers, with their hands up, chanting the Revolution’s name. Chanyeol shifted near Baekhyun and took advantage of the situation to steal a kiss from his lips, while everyone around them was celebrating. When their lips separated, they stood forehead against forehead, with their eyes closed.

« Together?»

« Together»

And as the dawn of a new Revolution rose, they kissed again.

 

❀  
  
 

« I think it’s time»

Chanyeol and Baekhyun were walking down the street that took to the latter’s home, hand in hand, with the dark sky above them. With the attack coming in three days, Baekhyun decided that he was ready to say goodbye to his brothers. Their parents weren't home, they never were, and he realised that it was better to leave before they came back.

Baekhyun’s heart was running faster, but it wasn't pleasant, it wasn't that kind of fast beat he felt when Chanyeol kissed him or touched him. It was low, too deep, too heavy. He started looking at his surroundings, gracing with his eyes everything that had been there since his childhood, hoping to remember it forever if he had to leave Paris or the world itself.

« Are you ready?» Chanyeol’s voice echoed in the silence.

« I think I’ll never be ready» Baekhyun answered, with a bittersweet smile. « But I won't regret the choice I made»

Chanyeol stopped in the middle of the street, holding Baekhyun’s face in his hands.

« Baekhyun» he was almost whispering. « You can still decide to not fight. If you want to stay with your brothers I’d understand, everyone would»

Baekhyun shook his head. « No, I made my decision»

The other stood there, still holding his face and looking into his eyes.

« I think I never told you how honoured I am to be able to love someone as brave as you» Chanyeol said, his gaze full of emotions. « You see me as your hero, but you’re actually mine too»

Baekhyun got even nearer, placing his lips on Chanyeol’s, shaken by the fervor of his love exploding, but keeping it gentle, slow, savoring every movement.

« _I love you, Chanyeol_ » he had tears in his eyes as he spoke.

« _I love you, too_ »

They kissed again and, after a few minutes of hesitation, they reached Baekhyun’s home. Everything was quiet but they could see a single light shining in one of the rooms. Chanyeol drew back but Baekhyun caught his hand before he could leave, silently telling him that he wanted him near in that difficult moment. The smaller breathed loudly and, before he could even put his fingers on the doorknob, Sehun appeared in front of him, opening the door, visibly in a hurry.

« Hyung! » he said with a panicked voice.

« Sehun, why were you running? What happened? »

« It’s Kyungsoo, Hyung! » he couldn’t even speak properly. « He’s ill! »

At that, Baekhyun felt his knees go weak and the world troumbling down.

Baekhyun didn’t even think, he just ran, toward the inside of the house while screaming his brother’s name. He crossed the whole corridor, with Chanyeol and Sehun following him just as fast, and reached his piano room, where Jongin was crying, holding Kyungsoo’s body tightly. He could only see his legs and a part of his head, but his brother looked so _lifeless_ , while Jongin’s shoulder’s winced with every sob. Baekhyun stood there for a second, before Chanyeol’s voice calling him woke his mind up from the trance. Despite his limbs trembling, he reached his brothers and saw Kyungsoo. His face was pale, so white that it looked _dead_ , his weak arms and legs deprived of all their strength, unmoving on the ground, his chest’s laboured movements being the only sign of life his body gave.

« _Kyungsoo »_

Baekhyun fell to the ground, his eyes drenched in tears, reaching his brother with one hand.

« I don’t know what happened, Hyung! » Jongin was in a even worse state. « He said he wanted to play the piano so I accompanied him here, but then he fainted a second after! »

Jongin was shaking as hard as Baekhyun, with painful tears falling on his face. The older brother shifted near him and reached for Kyungsoo, so the other gently passed him the weak body.

« _My Kyungsoo_ »Baekhyun swept one strand of wet hair from his brother’s face, caressing his boiling face with gentle fingers. « Sehun, find Junmyeon and Minseok! »

As the rapid steps of his younger brother echoed in the room together with Jongin’s crying, Baekhyun lulled Kyungsoo in his arms, his frantic voice asking the other to stay awake, to not leave him. With his little brother so curled up to his chest, Baekhyun’s mind drove back to the first time he held him in his arms, when Kyungsoo was just a baby. He still remembered how the small child smiled at him as soon as he took him in his arms.

« I think it might be Tuberculosis » Chanyeol crunched down next to Baekhyun. « Did he perhaps start to eat less in the last few days? Or maybe weird night sweats? »

« Y-yes » Jongin answered, his voice broken by sobs. « I-I noticed how he started to lose w-weight recently, s-so I always made sure to bring him something to eat at least before going to bed, b-but when I didn’t sleep with him I always found the plate still full in the morning. He also said he felt hot during the night and he was always drenched in sweat, b-but when I touched him he was always freezing. In the past few days I saw him coughing some blood too, b-but when Junmyeon-hyung visited him he found nothing »

« Then we found the cause, it’s Tuberculosis. My friend Yixing runs a pharmacy and studied medicine, so I saw a lot of people with these kind of symptoms » Chanyeol touched the boy’s forehead with a focused gaze. « He may be still infective if the illness isn’t in a latent state, so everyone has to be around him the least possible »

Baekhyun looked at his brother again and realised how absent he had been during those months. He didn’t notice Kyungsoo’s body changing, losing weight. He didn’t notice his face starting to look excavated. He didn’t notice his brother getting weaker and weaker. Kyungsoo always showed him a warm smile, always listening to his problems, but Baekhyun never did the same. It was always only him talking. He wondered for how long his brother suffered the first symptoms, without saying anything.

« Kyungsoo! Kyungsoo! » Minseok and Junmyeon’s voices resonated in the room and Baekhyun saw their figures coming near. He could feel Chanyeol’s body moving away from him.

« Hyung, please cure him! » Jongin was still crying, screaming at his brother. « You’re a doctor, you have to cure him! »

« We will, Jongin, we will » Baekhyun could hear the panic in Junmyeon’s voice as he approached his three brothers on the ground. Minseok and Sehun stood near, eyes troubled by tears.

« What kind of illness is that? It can’t be normal fever » Minseok spoke, shaking.

« Chanyeol said it’s Tuberculosis, Hyung! »

« Chanyeol? » Minseok stopped. « Who’s Chanyeol? »

Baekhyun’s gaze shifted to Chanyeol for a moment, seeing the taller boy gradually lowering his eyes, until they reached the ground, as if he didn’t feel worthy enough to even look at his brothers.

« We’ll get to the introductions later, now we have to think about Kyungsoo » Junmyeon’s voice was serious. « I have to visit him and, if it’s really Tuberculosis, there may be something we can do before the worst happens. There’s a vaccine me and some other scientists just discovered that is supposed to kill the bacteria and it seemed to be working for some patients we tested it on. We have no certainties but that and isolation are the only hopes we have »

At those words, Baekhyun held his brother’s body even tighter, whispering painful _“I’m sorry”’_ s to him, before Junmyeon took him away from his arms.

« Sehun, Jongin, go prepare his bed and Hyung, please, find warm blankets and a bowl of cold water. We have to act fast »

As everyone left the room, Baekhyun broke down, shaking like a leaf. His tears were wetting the floor and his heart felt like exploding under all the pain. He felt Chanyeol running to him, reaching his wincing body on the floor and taking him in his arms, dragging Baekhyun until he lied on his lap.

« _My Kyungsoo_ » he was sobbing. « _My little Kyungsoo_ »

Chanyeol tightened his hold, kissing and caressing his head with cure.

« It’s fine » the taller whispered. « Everything is going to be fine »

« He deserves a better brother, Chanyeol! » Baekhyun screamed. « I was so caught up in my own life that I didn’t even notice how weak and thin he got! I could have done something! »

« Stop blaming yourself, Baekhyun. This is not your fault » he kissed the boy’s cheek.

« Why do I feel so much like it is? » Baekhyun couldn't stop crying, he was tore in two. « I’m an egoist, I only thought about myself when he always put us before anything else. He deserves better! »

_I was even going to leave him._

That thought got stuck into his head.

« You took care of him when no one else wanted to, you raised him and shaped him into the man he is today. You gave him so much and you don't even realize it. Stop seeing yourself as an heartless monster, Baekhyun, that's not what you are, that's what those people always thought about you » saying those words, Chanyeol started crying too. « All you ever did since I met you was talking about your brothers and I wish you could see the way your eyes sparkle whenever you even just mention them. I can see all the love in your eyes, Baekhyun. Don't immolate yourself because, for one time, you conceded yourself to be happy. That's what Kyungsoo wants »

Chanyeol’s words hit him right in the heart, making his fist clench the other’s shirt, hanging on his body like his life depended on it.

_I love you so much, Park Chanyeol._

_But I can't do it._

His tears just couldn't be stopped, they flowed and flowed like the sea during a storm, charged with pain. Baekhyun’s heart was broken into a million of pieces that fell on the ground around him, wounding his chest. It hurt.

_I love you so much._

_But I can't leave him._

« I can’t do it, Chanyeol » his voice was just a broken whisper. « I can't fight »

The other just held him tighter, hiding his nose in his hair.

« I can’t leave him » it hurt. It hurt so much. « Who’s going to take care of them? Junmyeon and Minseok will have to go back to the Front soon. I can't leave him, Chanyeol »

Chanyeol could feel all the pain in that destroyed voice, while he held his shaking frame. A part of him was relieved, because his Baekhyun was going to be safe, but the other was annihilated, just like a battleground after the war. But how could he take Baekhyun with him? How? When his brother stood between life and death? How could he hope to run away with him after the attack? How?

« I’m so sorry, Chanyeol » Baekhyun kept on crying.

Chanyeol made him raise his face, taking it between his hands and kissing him senseless, their lips crashing in a storm of feelings.

« I love you so much » Baekhyun spoke again, voice just as broken. « I don't know how would I live without you »

They kissed one more time and Chanyeol hid his lover’s face in the crook of his neck, letting his smell engulf him.

« I swear, Baekhyun » his voice stood powerful against the silence. « I swear I’ll come back to you. Even if it all fails, I swear I’ll come back to you and we’ll have the life we promised to each other »

And after that, they stood there, with the moon shining on their tangled frames, promising each other a _forever._

 

❀

 

« You can see him now, if you want » Junmyeon came to the piano room, where Baekhyun was playing _Notturno_ again and Chanyeol just stood there, watching him like he was the most beautiful view he had ever seen. Silently, the older brother realized who that boy was. He smiled. « Just don't stay too near him for a prolonged period of time. We injected the vaccine but we still don't know if it was effective or not. We’re going to take him to the hospital tomorrow morning »

Baekhyun suddenly left the piano, running toward Kyungsoo’s room. Chanyeol stood there, seated near the window, looking at the boy walking away.

Junmyeon observed him.

He looked at his disheveled appearance, with dark, uncombed locks and a few cuts on his skin darkened by the sun, but his eyes shone in a kind of innocence he never saw before.

He noticed what was hidden into that stare, too. He noticed the longing feeling that was gripping his heart. He noticed how broken the boy looked, as if someone was ripping off him a part of his heart.

« You can go too, Chanyeol » he looked at the tall guy suddenly raising his head, as if he was surprised to see Junmyeon speaking to him. « I’m sure Baekhyun needs you near »

« A-are you sure? » his voice was hesitant.

« Yeah » Junmyeon offered him his hand as he looked at his eyes widening. « Come on »

Junmyeon started dragging him around the corridors, heading toward Kyungsoo’s room. When they arrived, everyone was there. Minseok was on a chair, holding a sleeping Sehun, both with dried tears on their faces. Jongin was seated near the window and Chanyeol could still see his back shaken by violent sobs, wincing. And then, Baekhyun, who stood right next to the bed where Kyungsoo lied, dropping a piece of fabric in the bowl of cold water before placing it on the boy’s forehead. Chanyeol noticed how his eyes were still wet with tears. Even with pain wounding his features, Baekhyun still looked so beautiful.

« Go to him » he heard Junmyeon say from behind him.

Chanyeol hesitated but moved, reaching the bed and, as soon as he got near, Baekhyun hid his head on his chest, hugging his waist tightly. The painter wrapped his arms around his lover's shaking frame, caressing his head, as Junmyeon and Minseok observed them from afar, smiling at each other.

« _C-Chanyeol?_ »

The whole room stood in the most quiet of silences.

Kyungsoo was awake.

« C-Chanyeol-hyung? »

Jongin rushed to the bed, tears falling even faster from his eyes as he took Kyungsoo’s hand in his. The boy was looking at Chanyeol with a warm smile, sweat glistening on his face. Baekhyun still hadn't left Chanyeol’s frame but his stare was fixed on Kyungsoo, while the other brothers reached them.

« I f-finally met you, Chanyeol-hyung » Kyungsoo barely had the strength to speak and Chanyeol’s heart clenched.

« You wanted to meet me? » the painter could feel Baekhyun’s hold tightening as his tears kept on falling.

« Yeah » he coughed violently and everyone winced. « I wanted…to meet the person who…g-gave me my Hyung back »

Chanyeol could feel the tears threatening to fall and Baekhyun shifting even near, raising his face to look at him with the proudest smile he had ever seen. His eyes were glistening with tears and all Chanyeol could do was to gift him a small, but sincere smile.

« I don't know…how much time I have left to live but…thank you, Chanyeol-hyung » Kyungsoo talked like every word he spoke hurt him, wincing visibly. « Thank you…for making my brother…happy again »

One, single drop left his eyes. Chanyeol slowly moved near the bed, crouching down on his knees to be at the same level of Kyungsoo’s gaze. He held his free hand and the smile the young boy gave him made his heart hurt.

« He made me just as happy, Kyungsoo-ya » Chanyeol smiled too, caressing the weak hand.

« I’m happy…too » his eyes were shining. « Please, promise me…that you’ll never…leave him  »

Chanyeol put his other hand on his chest, right on his heart.

« I promise, Kyungsoo » he said. « I promise that I’ll always come back to him, no matter how far I’ll may be »

And with that, Kyungsoo smiled one more time.

If he had to leave the world in that moment, he was glad to go away with everyone he loved around him.

His heart was at peace.

 

❀

 

_Two days._

_Only two days._

As the day left its place to the night, Chanyeol thought.

He was in his room, alone, looking at the moon rising from the window.

_Only two days._

Only two days were left before the attack and the painter couldn't help but wonder.

_How is it like…to die?_

_What do you feel in that short moment before you go away?_

His mind was full of heavy thoughts, wounding his painful heart, terrifying him. But there was something that scared him even more than death.

_Baekhyun._

Chanyeol had his lover’s face engraved in his mind as the boy softly smiled in his memory. He could almost feel his perfume, his warm arms engulfing his body, the sound he produced when they made love to each other.

_Even if I survive, how am I gonna live without you?_

Chanyeol didn't know.

He didn't know how would it have been like to live without half of his heart.

So he just wondered, looking at that circular, shining piece of metal he held in his hand.

 

❀

 

When the moon was high up in the sky, Chanyeol left his house. He didn't even warn anyone, he just opened the door and walked out.

To Baekhyun.

With a heavy heart, he crossed the streets he knew like the back of his hands, with the cold metal moving in his pocket at every step. Once he reached his lover’s home, he breathed loudly, gathering all the bravery he still had in his body, and climbing over the high, metal gate. Chanyeol run across the garden covered in white snow, looking at the silent manor, where only one window was still opened.

_Baekhyun._

The painter looked at the opened window at the second floor and saw him, elbows lying on the sill, the moon’s light reflecting on his skin. Chanyeol felt his heart sink for a moment, completely captured by the ethereal figure that stood there, putting every star to shame. A beautiful daffodil, shining of a golden light, dancing in the wind, following his own melody.

Despite the time passing, he still felt so entranced by everything Baekhyun was.

« Baekhyun! » Chanyeol whispered loudly. « Baekhyun! »

The painter looked that the other waking up from his trance, wincing and searching for him with his eyes, until his gaze fixed on his figure.

Oh, how much warmth that smile brought to his heart.

« Chanyeol! » Baekhyun quietly said, glancing at his back for a second. « Sehun and Jongin are sleeping here in my room, wait for me! »

Chanyeol saw the boy disappear for a few minutes, before the sound of a door unlocking resonated in the silence and Baekhyun was suddenly there, in his arms, right where he should have been.

« I missed you » the smaller hid his face in Chanyeol’s chest and the taller just held him tightly, putting his head on the crook of Baekhyun’s neck.

« How is Kyungsoo doing? »

Baekhyun kissed him on the nose. « We took him to the hospital this morning and Junmyeon injected a new dose of the vaccine. He can't walk nor breath properly, but he stopped coughing blood, so they're positive, even if the recovery will be long and painful »

« I’m relieved. I asked my parents to protect him from up there, maybe they really listen to me » Chanyeol said, smiling warmly as the other did just the same.

« I was so scared, I felt everything collapsing around me » his tone was low. « But I want to stay positive, I owe him some trust. He’s strong, I know he can overcome his illness and I’ll be here to help him »

Baekhyun’s smile was bittersweet as he played with the collar of Chanyeol’s shirt, lost in his thoughts. The taller reached for his lips, touching them gently and then looking at them, engraving their shape, color and taste in his mind as he caressed them with one of his fingers.

« Did something happen? »

Chanyeol’s gaze drifted to Baekhyun’s and his hands started shaking.

« There’s something I want to tell you…or rather, _ask_ you » his voice was trembling too. «  We both know that…we may have not much time left »

The other’s stare suddenly focused elsewhere and Chanyeol could see the first tears starting to wet his eyes.

« And I might have to ask you to take this as my farewell. I know that if we spend our last day together I won't be able to leave you » he breathed and suddenly his lover’s face was wounded by heavy tears. « But, before I go, there’s something I have to do »

Chanyeol tucked his hand in the pocket of his pants, feeling the cold metal against his skin as he closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath in the futile attempt to stop his raging heart.

« _I wandered lonely as a cloud, that floats on high o'er vales and hills, when all at once I saw a crowd. A host, of golden daffodils_ »

With that, Baekhyun’s body had been shaken by a sob, as his eyes looked at Chanyeol, the light that always shone in them reflecting on the tears.

_« Beside the lake, beneath the trees, fluttering and dancing in the breeze.The waves beside them danced; but they out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, in such a jocund company »_

 

Chanyeol took Baekhyun’s fingers’ between his, opening the other hand, the one that hid the metallic ring. The painter looked at his lover’s eyes widening at the sight, tears running even faster down his face, and suddenly anything else mattered. The time stopped, the space ceased to exist. There was no upcoming war, no destiny trying to tear them apart. There were just them and their love, standing above the world itself.

 

« _I gazed and gazed but little thought, what wealth the show to me had brought. For oft, when on my couch I lie, in vacant or in pensive mood, they flash upon that inward eye, which is the bliss of solitude_ _»_

 

The painter held the ring between the tips of his fingers, shaking along with their hearts, and slid it along Baekhyun’s skin, as the other smiled through the tears.

 

« _And then my heart with pleasure fills and dances with the daffodil »_

 

As the ring stood perfectly around Baekhyun’s finger, shining under the moonlight, Chanyeol breathed again, taking his lover’s hand.

 

« I can't promise you castles, nor gold, nor lands. I can't promise you a future, because I don't know what will happen, but what I can assure you is that my heart is yours to keep. Even if I’ll be far away, even if I won't even be on this Earth anymore, I promise you that I’ll find a way to reach you » he breathed. « If you want it, this wounded, troublesome heart is yours, and this lanky boy with big ears, messy hair and scars on his face is too »

Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s eyes were fixed on each other as if they were the only thing they could see.

« So, Byun Baekhyun, right here and now, with the stars as our only witnesses » another breath. « _Will you marry me?_ »

And in that moment, as Baekhyun’s lips crashed on Chanyeol’s, the sky smiled again and two, distant stars shone brighter, looking at their son blooming in all the colors of love. He may had no castles, nor gold, nor lands, but everything Baekhyun needed was the lanky painter with big ears, messy hair and scars on his face that one day decided to change his life, gifting him a single, golden flower.

 

« _Yes_ »

❀

 

That night, they made love to each other again, but their faces were wounded by tears running down, unceasing. As they came together, the sobs couldn't be stopped, because their  hearts were destroyed. How could it really be their last night? The last time they kissed, got lost in each other, made love. _How?_

 

They felt their hearts burning in flames, transforming into ashes, dark and lifeless. Every one of their seconds together hit their minds, making them re-live those past moments, as they felt them on their skins again, hurting like deep, opened scars at the contact with marine water. It burned, burned again, burned every minute more. Thinking about the dreams they shared, where they saw each other’s smile whispering the most sincere _I love you_ , morphing into nightmares. As the time passed, that night, they felt those dreams slithering down from their hands, becoming sand, swiped away by a cold wind. Just a few more hours and the uncertainty of not knowing how many days they had left would have destroyed them. Black drops fell, fell brakeless, fell and never stopped, marking their faces with pain overflowing from their insides. It was like those tears wanted their pains to meet the cold air that entered from the window, bringing them out, shining in the darkness like the medal of a fallen soldier.

 

As Chanyeol raised his back from the bed at the first sunlight, Baekhyun wrapped his arms around the other’s waist, while a vise was devouring his insides, consuming him. His lover looked at him in the eyes one more time, imprinting him in his memories. He touched his lips, the curve of his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and every inch of his skin, needing that memory to last as long as he breathed, or maybe even after. They kissed, slowly, painfully, as those wet drops made their lips savory, praying that it wouldn’t be their last. Baekhyun stared at Chanyeol and the other just couldn't do it, he couldn't stand that gaze so strong on him, making his skin burn, so he run away, whispering one, last _I love you_ to Baekhyun’s ear and suddenly everything was black. The world around him turned dark without his light, a suffocating gloom eating him alive and he couldn't do anything but collapse into that void. Baekhyun’s head felt like it was going to explode as his tears flooded the palms of his hands, like the high tide smashing on the sand.

 

With his heart devoured by the pain, he fell asleep again, dreaming of a future where he and Chanyeol were together.

 

One more, single tear rolled down his face.

 

❀

 

 

_One day._

 

Just one day.

Chanyeol’s heart was a desert.

Numb, empty.

But he wanted to fight, for his France, his art, his parents.

For Baekhyun.

As he left his house, Chanyeol looked at the painting one last time.

 

_I promise you._

_We won’t end like this._

_I’ll come back._

_Just like the flowers every Spring._

 

❀

 

 

« What time is it? »

« Almost seven » Jongdae spoke. « It will start soon »

The day came.

The day when the dawn of a new Revolution started.

Everything around them was asleep, the air silent, their feet moving slightly on the dusty ground being the only noise they could ear. The whole rebellious army was scattered around the center of the city, near the palace, hidden and waiting for the first sound of cannon to start the attack. As they waited, the silence sounded suffocating, almost like the entire city had been trapped in a timeless space. They looked at the dawn slowly disappearing to welcome the sun, wondering if it would have been their last. Everything had the taste of longing and all the fighters found themselves thinking about their lives, their past mistakes, what they didn’t have the bravery to accomplish, the future they were may be losing. Some of them were silently praying, others were just listening to them.

Chanyeol, seated on the floor with his back against a wall, could feel Jongdae breathing next to him. As that peculiar sound of silence invaded his mind, he thought about Baekhyun.

_I’ll come back to you._

He closed his eyes, thinking about his lover’s arms around him, the perfume of his hair, his hand gently caressing his wounded skin, his kisses, the sounds he produced every time they made love. The image of Baekhyun under his body as he pounded into him flashed in his mind and Chanyeol swore he could hear his voice in the wind that was lazily blowing. Those memories were so vivid that Chanyeol could almost feel those touches on his skin, burning with that kind of flame only Baekhyun was able to give him.

« Chanyeol » Jongdae’s voice broke the silence. « Yixing »

They both turned his head to the boy speaking with a sombre tone.

« You’re the best friends anyone could ever ask for » he smiled slightly. « I’m honoured to fight with two companions like you. If this really is our last day, then I’m glad we’re here together »

« Save your words for when we’ll be at the tavern drinking a shot of liquor, kid » Yixing’s words sounded bittersweet. « I have no intentions to die yet »

« Me neither » Chanyeol sighed, waking up from his trance.

« Oh, we know why you don’t want to, _Chanyeolie_ » despite the situation, Jongdae’s voice was still teasing.

« Are you making fun of me? That’s because you never made love, Jong, or else you wouldn’t speak like that » he laughed a little.

« So _you_ did, mh? » his friend bumped his shoulder on Chanyeol’s as Yixing chuckled. « How is it? »

Chanyeol lied his head on the wall behind him, closing his eyes as the image of Baekhyun hovering him appeared in his head again.

« It’s probably the best thing I’ve ever experience in my life » a smug smile appeared on his lips.

Jongdae whistled quietly. « _Ooh_ , so, besides being handsome, he’s also good in bed? »

The other threw a fist right at his forearm, but Jongdae just laughed tastily, followed by Yixing as they both observed Chanyeol’s cheeks reddening.

« Don’t you ever think of Baekhyun like that again, you pervert. That kind of view is reserved for one man only and that’s _me_ »

Their laughs filled the air around them, forgetting even for just a moment the fact that they were going to risk their life in barely a few minutes. As the profound silence hit their ears again, Jongdae slowly quietened down, smiling bitterly.

« I’m sorry for what I said the other day, Chanyeol » he looked at his best friend. « It was the anger talking, I don’t mean any of it. I know he isn’t just any guy, I can see it in your eyes. I just…I felt like everything we experienced together just didn’t matter anymore. I know it’s stupid, but we had nothing except each other for years »

« It’s fine, Jongdae. You’re forgiven » Chanyeol patted the other’s shoulder. « And I would never erase what we went through together. He may be the man I love, but you’re still my best friend and brother »

They shared one, inclusive smile and then the silence came back. With the time passing, they could almost touch that veil of tension that covered everything around them, suffocating the whole, sleeping city. The sun had almost risen and, at the light changing, all the soldiers raised their heads toward the sky, with their heart caught in a vise.

_It’s coming._

Suddenly, a voice filled the air.

Jongdae’s voice resonated powerfully amongst the deserted streets and they all listened to him, closing their eyes, as they felt death coming nearer, crawling at their feet.

« _Do you hear the people sing? Singing the songs of angry men, it is the music of the people who will not be slaves again_ »

Chanyeol thought about Baekhyun one more time.

« _When the beating of our hearts echoes the beating of the drums, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes_ »

 

_Wait for me._

 

And then, the first cannon echoed in the silence.

 

❀

 

 

From his window sill, Baekhyun heard the first cannon vibrating in the whole city.

As he put one hand on his raging heart, with the red sun reflecting on his skin, he prayed the stars.

_Come back to me._

_I’ll wait for you._

_Good luck, Chanyeolie._

He stayed there, listening to the sounds of the battlegrounds, gripping his shirt in the desperate attempt of suppressing the fear that was devouring him alive.

_I love you._

❀

 

The sound of millions of gunshots launched to the sky resonated in the entire Paris, filling the air along with all the shouts coming from the rebels. They were advancing toward the gates of the palace, aiming for the king, as Yifan guided the army.

« _For France!_ » the crowd roared and the black hats of the royal guards started to appear into their field of view, gathering in hundreds to contrast the rebels.

« This is it, my companions! For the Revolution! »

« _For the Revolution!_ »

They attacked as the metal gate opened, flooding the royal gardens while bullets started to rain through the air. The sound of bodies hitting the ground filled Chanyeol’s ears and resonated in his ribcage, hurting in pain. He dodged to the side, grabbing his gun from his back pocket and getting ready to attack as the first soldier fired a bullet toward him, missing the target when someone else hit him right in the head. Chanyeol stopped for a second, looking at all the blood flowing from the man’s head, reaching his shoes while a retch spread in his stomach.

« No mercy, Chanyeol! » Yifan’s voice reached him and woke him up.

Chanyeol just nodded and walked away as another bullet passed next to his ear and graced his cheek. The slight pain hit him and red blood started to run down his face.

« _For France!_ » the fighters’ voices resonated and Chanyeol looked at the french flags moving in the air as a symbol of rebellion.

« Chanyeol, behind you! » Jongdae screamed at him.

Guided by an animalistic instinct, Chanyeol just turned around and shoot, without even looking at the man’s face. He heard the sound of the bullet hitting the soldier’s chest and then his one, last breath reached the painter’s ears.

_I killed him._

_I killed a person._

_He died because of me._

The realisation of what he had just done knocked at his head, the pain too strong to even think rationally. He stared at the blood staining the blue uniform as the man’s chest moved for the last time. Chanyeol felt suffocating, that same blood chocking his throat, making him drown.

_What have I done?_

Chanyeol couldn’t move as the sound of the battle resonated all around him, his limbs paralysed by the sight in front of him. He didn’t think, he just fired, ending the life of a person he knew nothing about, like an animal that was fighting to survive.

« Chanyeol! » Jongdae’s voice woke him up one more time as he felt the other grabbing his forearms while shaking him. « I have no intentions of losing you today, so wake up and fight! Don’t you want to come back to Baekhyun?! »

_Baekhyun._

« Then fight, Chanyeol! Fight! »

With new found determination, Chanyeol went past another guard, telling himself that he was doing what he had to do, in order to avenge his past and protect his future. He shoot a bullet and then other two, aiming at his enemy, proceeding without looking back as a tear started to run down his cheek, mixing with blood. He tried not to think about how dirty he felt, how is mind was telling him what an horrible monster he was, going strong, following the group led by Yifan, who was killing soldiers left and right with a murdering look in his eyes. It was scary, how anger and hate could change someone, how it could morph that person into a merciless murderer.

Chanyeol looked at his back and saw the gardens filled with fresh blood, bodies dotting the once green grass like fallen flowers, while everyone around them was still fighting. In a one, last human gesture, the painter asked his parents to protect all those lost lives and guide them toward the sky.

Next to him, as he defended himself from the guards, Jongdae and Yixing were fighting, firing bullets. Their gaze was so different from Yifan’s: he could see the hesitation in their eyes, the horror and terror that was devouring their insides restlessly. The three looked at each other.

« Together? » asked Yixing over the sound of gunshots.

« Together » Chanyeol and Jongdae answered in unison, and then attacked.

They coordinated their firings, shooting at the same time toward the group of men that was coming for them. They hit two, but the others managed to move just in time, preparing to shoot. In a fraction of seconds, Chanyeol saw one of the bullets firing from the gun with a loud noise and then, it hit.

Jongdae fell to the ground.

« Jongdae! » Yixing and Chanyeol screamed in unison as the first shoot the two men.

The boy was lying on the ground, his gaze lost somewhere between the world and what stood next, with his chest flowing with blood. Chanyeol felt burning drops running down his face as he and Yixing dragged the boy’s body behind a bush.

« Jongdae! Jongdae, please stay with us! » Chanyeol was panicking, wincing with violent sobs as his heart run and run, pushed by an horrifying fear.

« The bullet didn’t damage any vital organ, it hit right above the heart » Yixing was trying to contain himself, but his voice was shaking and weak, almost covered by the sounds coming from the battleground.

« Chanyeol »

The boy raised his head and Yixing’s sterne face met his eyes.

« Take him away from here »

Chanyeol felt his world collapse, just like the moment when Baekhyun told him he wanted to fight by his side. He started to violently shake is head because, _no_ , there was no way he could run away and leave Yixing there, fighting alone. They made a promise, they would have come back together or _died_ together.

« No! I won’t leave you here, I can’t — »

« Chanyeol, Jongdae can’t fight and, if you don’t stop the blood, he won’t survive » Yixing’s voice was as strong as the war ensuing in front of them. « I won’t look at one of you dying, I won’t make the same mistake again »

The painter looked at his friend closing his eyes for a moment, trying to keep it all in to stop the tears from falling, as his past hit him like one of those bullets.

« I saw my son _dying_ , Chanyeol » one single tear. « I already lost Yuxue and I refuse to lose you two too »

Chanyeol stared at his friend, the same person that saved him, gave him a home and that sense of family he thought he had lost forever. The same man who became his _father_ and gave him the possibility to re-start from zero, finding a new reason to keep on living. He looked at the other’s eyes telling him everything with no words needed and, as he grabbed Jongdae’s weak body in his arms, their tears started to fall, synchronised.

« Always remember that I love you two like my own sons and that I thank the stars every single day for giving me the possibility to have you in my life » Yixing stood up, facing the battleground. « In case we won’t meet again, take care of Jongdae »

With one, last smile, Yixing looked at Chanyeol again. « Never let Baekhyun go »

And after that, he just run, toward Yifan, disappearing among the fighting crowd as Chanyeol retraced all those words that had the bitter taste of goodbyes. Chanyeol looked back one more time, before starting to run away, toward the gates, with tears and blood staining his face and clothes. He kicked the soldiers that tried to stop him, but they were so occupied in their attempt to protect the palace that their resistance was minimum. As he run, he glanced at his right and saw the dead corpses of Han and Tao lying on the ground. The latter’s eyes were still opened, wetted with tears, as if he saw his death coming right before his murderer shoot the bullet. He teared his gaze away, running even faster.

Jongdae was painting heavily against his chest as the upper part of his body was soaked in blood. Chanyeol exceeded the gates and left the attack behind his back but he knew that there were other fighting nucleus scattered around Paris, trying to take the control over the city hall, the bank or the Notre Dame cathedral, so the chance of encountering more soldiers was dangerously high.

When the sound of the battleground felt distant, Chanyeol headed for the nearest alley and gently dropped Jongdae on the ground. The boy was sweating and lamenting out of pain, so Chanyeol just teared up his white shirt despite the cold and bandaged his best friend’s chest as tight as he could, stopping the blood.

« _Yixing_ » Chanyeol heard Jongdae trying to speak. « We have t-to go back, Chanyeol…»

His voice died down as Chanyeol didn’t answer. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t think about it. He felt like a coward, a betrayer and guilt was swallowing him up alive.

« You need a doctor, Jongdae. The bullet didn’t hit any vital part of your body but your wound is too deep and flooding with too much blood » he sighed. « But what doctor in his right mind would help us in this— »

He stopped.

_Junmyeon._

« I know who can cure you » he said and then lifted his friend up again, grabbing his gun. « Don’t fall asleep, I’m gonna take you there »

Chanyeol walked down the dark alley, reaching a street he knew and then running as fast as he could toward Baekhyun’s house.

_I’m coming, Baekhyun._

The boy kept on walking fast but then a loud shout reached his ears and the sound of thousands of gunshots filled the air.

_Shit, the attack of the Parliament._

Just in front of him, another battleground stood, guided by a french man Chanyeol often saw at the tavern. He hid behind a wall as Jongdae winced in pain and he understood that he had to act quick. Chanyeol stretched his head, looking at the soldiers attacking the rebels in front of the Parliament and the situation looked tragic. The royal army was brutally annihilating the revolutionary forces, lacking in number, and only a few of them were still alive. The attack was failing miserably and if Chanyeol got too near to the battlefield, they would have killed him without hesitation. However, Jongdae’s blood was staining his freezing body and the bandage wasn’t enough to stop the blood for too long.

Without thinking rationally as he held his best friend tighter to his chest, Chanyeol launched himself in the battle. He had to reach Baekhyun’s home, where Junmyeon would have cured Jongdae and he could finally reunite with the man he loved, silently waiting for their destiny to be written. With that thought in mind, he shoot one bullet and hit a soldier, who heavily fell to the ground. His arms were starting to hurt from the weight of Jongdae’s weak body and it was getting harder and harder to move around quickly. Bullets fired near his skin and he tried to avoid them, shooting back, with only one thought flashing in his head.

_I’m coming, Baekhyun._

_I’m coming back to you._

But as his lover’s face occupied his mind, one bullet hit him in the forearm and a devastating pain pervaded his body like a demon. He fell to the ground with Jongdae, screaming as his voice got lost in the sounds of the raging battle. Chanyeol’s vision started to get blurry, images overlapping, fading, as his head pounded so hard that it felt like it was going to explode soon. One more shoot hit his leg and a new wave of pain crashed on his body, making him bend on the ground.

_So is this how I die?_

_Only a few meters away from you?_

As he cried a single tear, Baekhyun came back in his mind.

He was shining, shining so brightly that it almost hurt, as beautiful as ever, with a delicate, golden daffodil placed on his ear. His lover was smiling, illuminated by a divine light that stood at his back. All the memories they shared followed one after another, from the moment they met to their last goodbye, that night when they made love, crying with the same tears.

_« A narcissus? Like the mythological men who died because he looked at his reflection? »_

_« I prefer to call them daffodils. I think it suits them better »_

A smile appeared on his lips as he lied on the ground and a cold rain started to fall from the sky.

_« My name’s Baekhyun, Byun Baekhyun »_

The rain poured down on his weak body and the idea of letting himself go to those memories felt so sweet.

_« This is why I want you and no one else to paint me. Even just by observing me you understood me and you are the only artist who had been able to represent how I want to see myself. You understood the real me, Chanyeol »_

His eyes were starting to close and that light in front of him was so tempting.

_« Aren’t you scared? If someone knew, they’d kill us »_

_« I’m not afraid of death if it means that I can be with you even for only this moment »_

 

The rhythm of his heart suddenly changed.

He opened his eyes and, even if the pain was devouring him, he crawled back to Jongdae, who was painting. His limbs were shaking, but he gathered all the remained strength he had and held his best friends in his arms again, struggling to stand up. As the gunshots roared around them, Chanyeol started to walk again, tears running down at every step, but he pushed himself toward every limit and went on.

He had to reach Baekhyun.

While the rebels and the soldiers kept on murdering each other, falling on the ground, Chanyeol reached another alley, walking down the dark street as fast as the pain allowed him to proceed, ending up in a street he knew too well.

The road to Baekhyun’s home.

With the sound of silence now filling the air and suffocating his ears, he fought his last battle, the one with the pain, proceeding toward his destination with the bullets devouring his skin.

_I’m coming._

He walked and walked, losing his equilibrium more than one time, but when he saw the gates of the Byun’s residence in front of him, he forced himself again, hitting the metallic door as he almost fell again.

With his last strength, he screamed.

« _Baekhyun! »_

And then, as if he was waiting for him, the sound of Baekhyun’s voice filled the air and his arms were finally back where they should have been: around his body, holding him.

Finally at peace, Chanyeol fell asleep.

 

❀

 

« _Why isn't he waking up, Hyung!? »_

« _Give him time, Baekhyun! He had two bullets threaded in his body not even an hour ago and a violent hemorrhage, we have to be patient »_

Chanyeol’s head felt like it was trapped between two walls, compressing his brain, and the devastating pain in his forearm and leg was spreading through his whole body. He didn't know where he was, nor how he ended up there, because he couldn't remember anything and his eyes felt so heavy. But there was something that pushed him toward his limit again, making him regain enough strength to wake up.

Baekhyun.

It was Baekhyun’s voice, the only thing he needed to hear, that precious sound he was afraid he would have never been able to listen to again. He could feel the fear in his tone and his body moving around the room, stopping to caress Chanyeol’s cheek from time to time and then kissing his nose.

He was home.

« _B-Baekhyun… »_

From his still blurry vision, Chanyeol could see Baekhyun’s eyes widening, tears bursting out like waterfalls. Heavy drops were running down his face as his whole body was shocked by violent sobs and Chanyeol couldn't help but cry too, because he was actually there, with the man he loved, _alive._

« C-Chanyeol… _»_

When Baekhyun’s voice reached his ears once again, the painter felt like it was the end of a nightmare, that moment when he woke up and his lover was there, ready to hold him and make all that pain disappear.

« _B-Baekhyun…_ are you really here? _»_

He couldn't believe it, because it all felt like the dream he had been waiting for so long. He was so afraid to wake up and make it all disappear, but then Baekhyun got even closer, lying his forehead on Chanyeol’s as he gently touched his face. Their tears mixed, uniting them once again.

« Yeah _»_ he whispered _._ « I’m really here _»_

At that, as the sounds coming from the battleground disappeared in the cold air of Paris, Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s hearts found their Heaven.

 

❀

 

When Sehun found and took Yixing to the Byun’s manor, Chanyeol felt at peace, because they kept their promise: alive or dead, but still together. The man had major injuries and the wound on his leg was throbbing crimson blood, making him unable to walk. Sehun was supporting him with his whole body, as Yixing’s face contorted at every step he took, and they reached Junmyeon just in time, managing to stop the hemorrhage. Jongdae was in the worst state but the doctor was positive: he would have been able to recover fast, since the hack wasn't too deep, nor hit any vital organ or muscles.

But there was something troubling Chanyeol more than his painful wounds.

It was Yixing’s expression.

As everyone gathered in the biggest room of the mansion, the man didn't speak a word and kept his eyes fixed on the marble floor. All the brothers were there, except for Kyungsoo, who was thankfully recovering at the hospital, and Jongin, who promised to stay by his side, even if it meant being exposed to the virus. Sehun was seated on a big couch next to Minseok, playing with his fingers as his older brother lovingly patted his head, while Junmyeon stood on his feet, near the crackling fireplace, making sure that Jongdae was breathing correctly. Chanyeol and Baekhyun lived on their own, kings of a world only they shared, finally able to be together without that horrible fear devouring their insides. They were both seated on a different couch, but Baekhyun was on Chanyeol’s lap, his forehead still pressed to the other’s as he caressed his back with circular movements. Everyone knew and they were free to live their love, at least there, in that big building, protected by the walls around them. They needed to feel each other’s skin, still unable to realize that they were still both there, kissing each other as everything else disappeared and morphed into nothing.

They were finally home.

Except, there was something their enamored minds ignored.

« It failed »

Yixing spoke and the whole room stopped.

« The rebellion failed » his words were lapidary. « They arrived in thousands. Every time we killed one, two others appeared, like an Hydra »

Chanyeol felt Baekhyun’s hands tightening their hold around his waist.

« They killed Yifan and our troops didn't even have a guide anymore » one, single tear naked his face. « Every other nucleus had been outnumbered by the army. We lost »

_No._

_Please, no._

Baekhyun’s eyes broke, like delicate crystals, letting those tears fall like every one of those empty corpses. He knew it, he knew what Yixing was going to say, but he didn't want to listen, choosing to live in an utopian dream where he and Chanyeol could be together. Was it possible to fight the destiny and rewrite the stars?

« The king already proclaimed the State of Siege » he was struggling to speak. « We have barely one day before the army will start the roundups. One of us spoke and now they know the identity of every survived rioter »

_No._

« If they find us, we’re _dead_ »

Baekhyun screamed, every fiber of his heart torn like bare wire, lacerated on the inside. He hid his face in Chanyeol’s neck, holding him with all the strength he still had left before starting to cry all that pain. His lover was crying with him and their suffering voices filled the silence in the room, as everyone else just stood there, spectators of a tragedy they didn't have the courage to witness.

« No! » Baekhyun shouted. « I refuse to lose him again! »

The smaller sounded so desperate, cuddled by his lover’s arms in the futile attempt to stop that devastating pain.

« We have to leave Paris. I’m sorry, Baekhyun »

Jongdae wasn't speaking, his gaze lost in the void, while Chanyeol just held Baekhyun’s shaking body tighter than he had ever done before.

After that, everyone just left, leaving the poor boy’s screams behind their back with the heaviest hearts. Chanyeol just let his body slid on the couch, lying with his back as he took Baekhyun with him and tightened his hold, losing himself in his smell and proximity, fearing the future more than death.

Baekhyun grabbed his lover's body as if it was the only anchor he had left, the last hope before drowning in an endless ocean.

With the pain consuming their bodies, they kissed, so slowly, burning, as the sun set on a destructive tomorrow.

 

❀

 

One night was all they had been granted with.

One night, before the uncertainties of the future would have devoured them and separated two hearts that beat only for each other. They cried for hours, in each other’s arms, feeling the time running too fast for a love that had so much more to give.

As the moonlight graced Paris, they walked toward Baekhyun’s room, closing the door behind them, needing to feel each other only, forgetting for at least that night the grains decreasing in the hourglass.

« _I need you_ » Baekhyun whispered, making Chanyeol shiver as his hands started to adventure on his lover’s body, feeling his skin under his digits. His fingers trailed from his neck to his lower back, savoring those touches like water in the desert.

« At least for tonight, there's only you and me. No yesterday, no today, no tomorrow. Just us » Baekhyun felt Chanyeol’s words on his skin as the other’s lips started to leave burning kisses along his jaw, then going down, reaching his neck and clavicles.

« Only you and me » the smaller repeated, erasing everything else when Chanyeol’s hands cupped his lower back.

Their hearts knew no control, completely addicted to the other’s presence, needing to be even more near, tangled in a forever that was just a lie. It was all they had for that last night: an illusion. The illusion of a certain tomorrow.

« I missed you so much » Baekhyun whispered again but Chanyeol was restless, still kissing his lover as the other titled his head back. Chanyeol’s lips were all Baekhyun needed for his heart to run wild, while a burning sensation spread in his chest and lower abdomen. He made him crazy.

They moved until their legs touched the bed and Baekhyun just pushed the other onto it, hovering over his body. Chanyeol stared at him as the smaller sit on his own knees, slowly removing his pants and then the white shirt, throwing it on the floor with no cure, before starting to unfasten the painter’s clothes. He was shining, in all his golden glory, with the silver rays of the moonlight illuminating his every trait and making him look like the most breathtaking of masterpieces.

Baekhyun lowered his body, reaching Chanyeol’s lips and kissing him senselessly, with their tongues dancing on the same rhythm, their deep breathing and moans mixed with the sound of silence. Their mouths moved on each other, locking and interlocking to gasp for air, but that kiss had the taste of tears. Slow, heavy drops were falling from their eyes, staining their faces and wetting that act of love with pain.

« I love you » Baekhyun whispered again.

« I love you, too » and Chanyeol answered.

For minutes, they just stopped, lost in each other’s eyes, memorizing every detail.

When they made love, that night, they cried again, feeling the time passing on their skin, every hour represented by a deep cut throbbing with blood. They came together, ascending to Heaven hand in hand, and then hugging each other so tightly that even breathing became difficult. They stayed like that until morning, never sleeping but only looking at each other, mesmerized by that love condemned by the destiny.

That same night, roaring thunders arrived again, tearing up the sky. As Baekhyun held Chanyeol in his arms, letting the taller’s head rest on his heart to stop his screaming, the boy wondered if he would have been scared of thunders too, from that moment. Would have he feared the storms if Chanyeol was miles away from him, knowing he couldn't be there to lull the taller’s pain and make those tears disappear? With his lover’s shaking in his arms, Baekhyun cried with him, until they both fell asleep, dreaming of a time and space where they could be together.

 

❀

 

With the night deepening, Baekhyun swore he felt Chanyeol leaving their shared bed, but when he woke up a while after, he was still there, limbs tangled with his as his cheeks were still stained with dried tears.

_Is this the last time I can look at you like this?_

Delicate and weak sun rays overstepped the white curtains that silently danced in the air, like the veil of an old ghost. Baekhyun could feel Chanyeol’s breath on his face, so near, just like their bodies, tangled in a forced destiny imposed by those same stars that witnessed every promise they shared. Chanyeol’s arms were so delicately circling Baekhyun’s waist, while the latter’s hand lovingly caressed every trait of the other’s face. It was his last chance to look at those eyes still closed, to smell his scent, to feel those devastating sensations or to hear the deafening sound of his restless heart. Baekhyun wanted to be able to build words worthy enough to describe the faint light that was illuminating his lover’s skin, the sound of his breathing, the way his chest scanned rhythmically every one of those last seconds, the curve of his lips, his hair dancing with the breeze, the proximity to that heart that was beating following the smaller’s same melody. But words couldn't be enough, because when he felt Chanyeol’s face living so near his, those conventional signs couldn't find their place and just disappeared.

_I’ll never let you go._

As one tear left his eyes, Baekhyun swore to the sky that they wouldn't have ended like that. If the destiny wanted to test their love, then so be it, but he knew he could win that fight, because Chanyeol was worth the pain. He would have waited the eternity if it meant finally being able to be together.

When Chanyeol woke up, they stood there, looking into each other’s eyes, and with that gaze Baekhyun understood.

Chanyeol would have never let him go, too.

 

❀

 

Chanyeol and Baekhyun looked at the sun rising, the taller hugging his lover from the back, as the last grain fell on the heap of sand in their hourglass. With that single grain, tears fell too, and Baekhyun turned around, hiding his face on Chanyeol’s chest.

It was it.

Their last shared moments before the future swallowed them up.

When they heard Junmyeon calling them, their arms untangled but their hands found each other. They walked down the corridor, so slowly, wanting those last minutes to last forever as they passed in front of that empty spot on the wall, where Baekhyun’s portrait should have been. They passed the kitchen, where they spent their first carefree afternoons, lulled by each other’s presence, and then the gardens, where they both made their promises to the stars. Their love was engraved everywhere, in those lonely rooms, in that shared, secret place, in the parisian air, in the starry sky and in all those daffodils that grew around the Seine.

When they met, Chanyeol and Baekhyun found their Heaven, but could it really exist if they were apart? They tried to believe in a utopia after all that pain, thinking that maybe their souls could finally be able to find their eternal peace, but that world they tried to imagine was made of glass. And it shattered.

They stood by the door, hands still interlocked, and looked at the sun again.

« Chanyeol » Baekhyun suddenly spoke and the other turned his head. « I will never let you go »

Everything around them was silent.

« No matter how many years will pass after today, you’re taking my heart away with you and I won’t ask you to have it back. It’s yours to keep »

Chanyeol unlocked their hands, but soon his arms stood around Baekhyun’s frame, hugging it tightly as he hid his face in the other’s neck.

« You have my heart too. Every inch of it »

The taller paused.

« I promise I will come back to you » Chanyeol spoke again and Baekhyun’s hands grabbed his shirt. « I’ll become a famous painter, maybe in America, maybe in England, somewhere where my art can be free. After that, I’ll come back to Paris and, if you want, we’ll run away, together, just as we’re meant to be »

Baekhyun was crying uncontrollably, clenched to his lover’s body.

« I can’t ask you to wait for me, but if you still want me, then I’ll take you away and we’ll finally live the love that we deserve » he caressed the smaller’s head.

« I will always wait for you, Chanyeol » Baekhyun’s voice was broken. « I’ll become a pianist and you’ll just have to listen to my music to find your name in every note »

They felt _missing_. Like the corpse of a soldier that held no name, who donated his last breath to the dark devouring him. Missing, like the last survivors of a war. Missing, like someone who walks through the rubble the cannons left behind. And like two missing souls, they looked at each other, leaving everything out as the sun started to set. They were waiting for that war to end, but they knew they still had to fight. They had no soldiers, no army, fighting as the only generals of their own battle against the destiny.

« This won’t be our end, my _daffodil_. Our love will come back again, _just like the flowers every Spring_ » Chanyeol was crying. « And to demonstrate that I’m someone who always keeps his promises, there’s something I want you to have »

Chanyeol unlocked their hold and Baekhyun already felt breathless, needing to feel the other’s skin against his, just like his life depended on it. He looked at the other walking away, admiring all the scars he carried on his body, covered by white bandages, reminding him the bravery of the man he loved. As he waited, his fingers started to play with the metallic ring around his fingers.

He saw the other coming back shortly after, carrying a big, rectangular object, and a piece of fabric wrapped around it.

« There was something you said when we first met. You told me how I was the only painter able to capture your real self and then you asked me to do something for you. Something I work on since that day » Chanyeol removed the fabric and Baekhyun felt his heart sink.

It was _him._

It was his painting.

« I don’t know if this is how you want to see yourself, but it’s exactly how you look through my eyes since that first time I saw you near the Seine » Chanyeol shed one tear. « _This is the peculiar beauty of lonely daffodils_ »

Baekhyun stared at the painting, retracing every line and brushstroke with his eyes broken by tears.

_This is me._

Chanyeol portrayed Baekhyun seated on a field of green grass, surrounded by a blanket of trees, the ruins of an old church behind his back. And then a golden, shining daffodil lying on his ear, as he looked at a distant sky, wrapped in a lulling dream.

 

_That was him, it was Baekhyun._

_There was no Sad Prince, but just him, lost in his own reality. He looked like no hero, he wasn’t standing ahead of a dark sky, with a victorious glare plastered in his eyes. Chanyeol captured everything Baekhyun was and made it beautiful._

Chanyeol barely had the time to delicately drop the painting on the ground before Baekhyun jumped in his arms, crashing his mouth on the other’s.

That feeling of each other’s lips pressed together, interweaving and savouring the taste of love. That salty drops falling on their skin, their hearts addressed to the sky. The memory of that moment echoed in their mind during all those years they spent apart, never abandoning them. Their hands intertwined like they were one, their fingers moving through each other’s hair, those destructive feeling with the strength of a hurricane. Chanyeol’s hands reached Baekhyun’s face for the last time and their eyes found each other again. Those same eyes where they could lose themselves, taking them back to those nights and days they spent together, hiding from a world that wasn’t worthy enough to see a love that was so special. Those eyes where they could see oceans, clouds, skies and every beautiful detail that stood on that cursed Earth. The sound of their own melody echoed in their ears, while Chanyeol lied his head in the hollow of Baekhyun’s neck, rediscovering the only place where he could hide from the darkness of a reality that was too terrifying. They could feel the other’s perfumed lost on their skin and their hands were shaking, like leaves moved by that freezing wind. Their heads were mislaid and their breaths infringed in the other’s, united through the pain.

_« A narcissus? Like the mythological men who died because he looked at his reflection? »_

 

_« I prefer to call them daffodils. I think it suits them better »_

 

_« And why a daffodil out of all flowers? »_

 

« I wandered lonely as a cloud, that floats on high o'er vales and hills, when all at once I saw a crowd » Chanyeol started to recitate it again, like it was their own, magical promise. « A host, of golden daffodils. Beside the lake, beneath the trees, fluttering and dancing in the breeze »

 

_« You saw me? Was I that daffodil on the Seine? »_

 

_« You were, you are »_

 

 

« The waves beside them danced; but they out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, in such a jocund company »

 

_« You know, I used to be afraid of rain »_

 

_« And now you aren’t? »_

 

_« Not so much anymore »_

 

 

« I gazed and gazed but little thought, what wealth the show to me had brought »

 

 

_« Look! It looks like a kid running »_

 

_« A kid running? I think it looks like a frog »_

 

_« It’s clearly a kid running, Chanyeol »_

 

_« I still think it's a frog »_

 

_« You have too much fantasy »_

 

_« Funny coming from you »_

 

 

« For oft, when on my couch I lie, in vacant or in pensive mood, they flash upon that inward eye, which is the bliss of solitude »

 

 

_« Catch me, Chanyeol! »_

 

 

« And then my heart with pleasure fills and dances with the daffodils ».

 

 

_« Once, a painter taught me the importance of freedom and I'm determined to never give it up »_

 

_« I’ll protect you even if it means losing my own life. I’ll fight for you until the last breath I have been granted »_

 

_« And I’ll do the same. Until my last breath »_

 

Just like that, as Chanyeol finished to speak and left one, last kiss on his forehead, his body averted more and more, until he stood in front of a carriage, with Yixing and Jongdae seated at the front. They locked their eyes, telling each other everything words couldn’t express. Chanyeol moved his lips and Baekhyun understood.

 

_I’ll come back._

 

And then, he went up, with a tear falling down his face. A moment after, Baekhyun was looking at his first and last love moving further and further away, taking his heart with him.

 

_I’ll wait for you._

 

As their promises flew away in the parisian air, the stars listened.  
  
  
 

❀ ❀ ❀  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 

###  **EPILOGUE: _The Peculiar Beauty of Golden Daffodils_**

 

**_Paris, 1870_ **

_Four Years After_

 

 

The Spring came again and, with it, its flowers.

Baekhyun was seated in the middle of that blanket of trees, on one of the fallen columns, with the Seine’s sound echoing in his ears, as his eyes were fixed on the golden daffodils dancing in the wind. He planted them personally and waited for them to reborn every year, since that 1866.

It had been four years.

During that time, Kyungsoo healed, even if slowly and painfully, but he was alive, back with Jongin. The doctors considered him a miracle and, in a matter of a few months, Junmyeon’s vaccine had been tested on more patients, resulting effective and being spread around the whole France.

Minseok accepted the place as General of the King’s Army, leaving the Front. He became one of the monarchy’s most trusted soldiers and served the royal family with honor.

Sehun finally found his dream, joining a company of actors. Baekhyun and his brothers went to see him perform at every play, even if his role was still minimal because of his young age. All they needed was to see their little brother with dreamy eyes on stage, shining with passion.

Jongin became a professional dancer but decided to refuse the offer he received from a ballet company to stay by Kyungsoo’s side during his illness. He opted to be a teacher instead, taking care of the little children. One day, a small boy came to him saying that he wanted to dance, but he was afraid since he wasn't a girl. Jongin took him under his protective wing and showed him that his gender didn't matter if he truly loved dance. A month after, that child told him that his _Jongin Hyung_ was his inspiration.

And then, Baekhyun became a pianist.

He wasn't just a pianist, but a composer.

He started attending lessons for a year before the owner of a big theatre in the city heard him play in the cafe he worked in. Six months after that night, he debuted with his first collection of original compositions.

At the Théâtre du Châtelet.

As he made his way to the stage, Baekhyun let one tear go when the memories hit him. A moment after, his hands took their place on the piano keys, and with his past unfolding in front of his eyes, he played. _May._ His first symphony.

The applause he received stood in his heart for the rest of his life, just like the proud expressions of his brothers, seated in the first row, with the light coming from the stage to illuminate their faces.

_To you._

_To the other half of my heart._

Baekhyun lifted his head, closing his eyes as the sounds coming from the audience echoed in the theatre, and dedicated it all to _him_ , to that love he was still waiting for.

 

  
Baekhyun composed every symphony thinking about their days together and every note had his name engraved on it. As his music reached the whole Europe, there was someone listening to every one of those notes, finding their memories through every line.

It was a painter, away in Britain, still waiting for the only man he had ever loved.

Chanyeol made a name for himself in London and later in the country, thanks to some patrons who believed in his art. In his shared house with Jongdae, who was finally free to sing and enchant every cafe in London, Chanyeol kept on painting.

He painted his only muse, his _daffodil._

Yixing married a woman, Seohyun, who owned a small art gallery in the city. Thanks to her contacts, Chanyeol was sure that every six months an anonymous painting would reach the Byun’s manor. Baekhyun hanged all of them, filling the walls of his room with thousands of golden daffodils painted on canvas with oil colors. He did the same with his father’s corridor, displaying _his_ painting next to his brothers’. The old man slapped him, but Baekhyun was strong and grew up to understand that his father meant nothing to him anymore.  
 

In 1868, the Government destroyed itself.

The increasing discontent of the suffocating population transformed in more revolts and the king had to abdicate, leaving the throne to the new monarch. A month after, the Restriction Act of Arts had been nullified and the names of every rioter who tried to destroy the government in 1866 had been erased, to honor a reign of freedom.  
  
 

Since that day, Baekhyun had been waiting in the place they used to call _their_ own, waiting for a new Spring to come back again.  
 

And that Spring came, on the 6th of May, 1870.  
 

It was that same day, when Baekhyun was seated on the column, looking at the flowers, just like he did every day since his love left Paris. He was reading one of his favorite books, _Les Misérables,_ when the sound of steps reached his ears. A second after, a golden daffodil stood in front of his nose and, behind it, the only man he had been waiting for. His heart felt like it started beating again for the first time, after so many years.

He was even more beautiful than how he remembered him to be, or maybe it was just the longing feeling and that need he had to see him again that made him look like the most breathtaking of masterpieces. His face was no longer wounded by deep cuts, nor his clothes were dirty and old, but those eyes and ears were unmistakable.

It was his Chanyeol.

_« I’m back »_

As the moon took the sun’s place, they kissed again, after so many years, tasting the feeling of something that didn't belong just to their dreams. Their lips locked like they never parted, with their hands wandering and touching every bit of skin, still incredulous.

After that, they made love, and as the sounds of their feelings filled the air, they knew they would have never parted again.

 

Chanyeol and Baekhyun left Paris a year after.

As Kyungsoo, Jongin and Sehun grew up, Baekhyun understood that it was time for him to finally listen to what his heart told him and moved to the French coast with Chanyeol. They bought a house near the sea, big enough to contain Chanyeol’s studio, Baekhyun’s piano and a love that was only getting stronger. They lived their years in peace, together, running on the sand as the night came, kissing each other hidden by the shores and making love with the sound of the sea.

When they were looking at the stars during a summer night, Baekhyun took Chanyeol’s hand and slid a metallic, silver ring on his finger. They didn't need anyone else’s validation, nor a piece of paper, to celebrate their wedding, promising a certain _forever_ to each other.  
 

Many years passed and their love never faded.

When Chanyeol reached his seventieth year of life, an illness hit him. It was a tumor in the lungs and, even if Junmyeon visited him regularly, they couldn't find a cure. The doctor gave him not even six more months to live.

As the taller man’s legs stop working, Baekhyun took care of him, just like he did during every storm. Even when his love stopped speaking because of the pain, he still stayed, kissing his suffering away.

  
That same year, Chanyeol’s light extinguished.

It was during a snowy day, in the middle of December, and he just fell asleep in Baekhyun’s arms, never waking up again. Baekhyun didn't cry, he just kissed his nose one, last time, because he knew he was going to follow him soon. Like that, he reached the small bottle in his pockets and drank it, feeling the poison going down his throat and falling asleep a minute after, _forever._

 

Just like he promised, Baekhyun protected his Chanyeol until his last breath _._

 

As the legend tells, two stars shine brighter than the others every first night of Spring, and the story of the two secret lovers lived through the years.

One century later, on the 6th of May, a boy named Baekhyun took a golden daffodil to the legendary lovers’ shrine and, next to him, stood a taller boy with wavy hair and red cheeks, offering him that same flower.

 

His name was Chanyeol.

 

 

 

 

##  **_The End_ **


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